


The Loudest Silence

by Kaorumi



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Bells, Cats, Multi, One stayed with jeralt and the other is with Rhea, SPOILERS ABOUND, Sothis is not made for baby sitting, Sweet and adorable and a dump of angst every now and then, Utterly self indulgent, a basic record of Beles growing up through the years, barely censored cursing, beles doesn't talk much or at all for that matter, extreme canon divergance, how does a rhea parent, i'll add more characters as they show up, lots of cats and dogs, mostly mute character, sweet buns, this story is no longer clean of curse words, twin byleths au, white owl that isn't feh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2020-11-07 23:02:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 54,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20825264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaorumi/pseuds/Kaorumi
Summary: Beles thought nothing of his repeating dreams. He thought of nothing when that lady’s tender touches hurt him a couple times. Not once did he think of outside the walls. He only thought of how much he needed to keep his mouth shut.He never thought to ask for help.An AU where there are twin Byleths but Jeralt didn’t know about one of them.





	1. This Game of Tag

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so like, I had this idea simmering for a long, long while, even drawing a kinda sorta sothis!Byleth and I just-- couldn't stop myself. 
> 
> So here. 
> 
> Here's an AU of where there are twin byleths but Jeralt didn't know and only escaped with one and Rhea secretly kept the other one for herself.
> 
> Beles is the name of one of the Byleths.

-1165, Horsebow Moon-

The cold of the stone chair bit into his bare thighs. He didn’t bother to shift in his seat. Instead, he placed his pale hands by his sides. It felt like ice had seared into his palms. 

Beles wanted to leave. Yet, as he looked up, he bit the back of his bottom lip. He couldn’t say anything. The lady - Seiros, she told him once, but Rhea, she called herself - stared ever expectantly at him. 

“Beles,” she started. There was hope shining in those gleaming green eyes. “Do you feel anything? Anything at all?” 

Beles stared at her a little longer. He didn’t know what to say to her. He only felt the cold that seeped into his skin and slowly numbed his body. What was he supposed to feel? 

He closed his eyes and sat still for a moment. Maybe if he waited a little longer, then maybe he’d feel something. 

“Beles...?” 

Instead, he saw flashes of a girl with long green hair standing in front of him. 

She yawned sleepily, _“You again? You’re a cheeky brat for taking up my spot, you know.” _

_I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to._

“Beles!” 

His pale green eyes snapped open. Seiros - no, Rhea, stood in front of him with her green eyes searching for something. 

What do you want? 

He wanted to ask her. 

But he didn’t. 

He sneezed instead. 

Rhea’s hopeful smile turned strained. “Oh poor dear, you must be cold. Come, we’ll try again another day.” 

She reached out for him - with hands he almost wanted to shy from. Her grip was strong under his arms, yet, she was gentle as she easily lifted him off the freezing stone and settled him on her hip. 

Just like a mother holding her child. 

Yet, it seemed wrong to Beles. Sure he was a child, probably no more than what? Six? He didn’t know. He never asked. 

But was she his mother? 

Rhea never said she was.

He said nothing as she carried him down the long staircase. She hummed a lullaby, the one she always, always sang. 

Just as the small child he was, Beles leaned against her for warmth, but the cold still nipped at him. 

He closed his eyes as her voice faded away. 

It was dark again. The only thing he saw were the stairs to that chair. Someone was always there, endlessly sleeping away in this dream. Beles did nothing to climb the steps. She wouldn’t wake up anyway. He sat on the floor, placing his hands in his lap as he patiently waited. 

“I learned a new game today.” 

He only blinked. There was a small girl. A different girl. Her hair and eyes were a dark shade of blue, nothing like his pale green features. And yet that was the only difference between them. 

She looked the same age as him, had an expression just like him. 

Blank, listless - but Beles was fine with that. 

He didn’t know her name, but he never bothered to ask. There was never a need to really ask. He would wait, and sometimes, she would appear. 

She reached out her hand, and he did not hesitate to take it. She pulled him up as if he was weightless and for a moment, Beles thought he was.

Nevertheless, he allowed himself to be tugged to his feet and the game started. 

He didn’t know the rules, maybe didn’t even care for it, but he learned without her saying another word. 

She would run, and he would catch her. He would run, and she would catch him. 

It was a simple game. 

There was no laughter, no raised voices, or anything really. 

All that echoed in the odd, odd darkness was the sound of pattering bare feet of children. Their only “guardian” was asleep in her stone throne. 

And Beles was fine with that. 

Their game tossed back and forth that it almost seemed endless to him. Then, as he reached out his own hand to tap her shoulder, she was gone. Beles blinked and lost his balance. He felt nothing when he crumpled to the ground in a heap, didn't even cry at the impact. He laid there for a moment as his body refused to move, before slowly sitting himself up. 

The darkness was silent, and there was no trace of his playmate. He didn't dare to look around. Instead, he stood up on unsteady feet and trailed to the staircase. Beles sat at the last step, placing his scrapped arms in his lap and waited in the heavy silence. 

He didn't know what he was waiting for, or how long he'd stay here. Beles didn't mind as the cold seeped into his bones. Quietly, just as the dream began, he dropped his shoulders as his eyes slipped closed and the

silence

faded

away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mind you, if I do this in order, then maybe I'll actually turn this into a story, rather than one shots ahahaha. So to clarify, I only finished BL and currently playing BE. I have a vague basic understanding as to what the hell Rhea did to Byleth so yeah. 
> 
> But anyway, tell me what you thought!


	2. This Game of Cats and Dogs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *splash*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never update this fast, but maybe I just might....!

-1166 Guardian Moon-

._._._._._.

Another dream, another game under their sleeping guardian’s perch. Beles still didn’t know the rules, or understand them, but he copied her movements as best as he could. Three different hand positions, and one beats the other - or something like that.

_“Who are you?”_

Beles only stared at her with his hand splayed out - paper, the girl called it. It wasn’t the first time she asked him that question. Even he himself didn’t know how to answer. 

They shared a stare for a long while, before the girl blinked and Beles dropped his hand.

_“Jeralt said that I should get your name.”_

Beles didn’t know who that was.

_“What do I call you?”_

She held out a hand to him, and he took it. Her touch was warm in his own, much warmer than Rhea’s. Beles almost didn’t want to let go. It chased away the cold that ate at his bones, and he didn’t want to sleep.

For the first time, he opened his mouth and

Beles woke up early with a cough. For a moment, he was confused. He never woke up before that girl disappeared. Dazed, he sat up from his bed with his legs tangled in the bedsheets and the sky was still dark. All he could hear was the occasional chirping from the birds outside his window.

He stayed there, watching as the sky slowly turned from dark blue to soft oranges. He opened his mouth and said his name.

His name cracked in his effort and his throat seized. He coughed to get that strangeness out.

He tried again.

And again.

But his name would only come out as a soft, barely heard whisper, even to his own ears.

“Beeeless…”

It was long, hissy, and shaky. It didn’t sound as clear and firm as Rhea would call him. Even that green haired man (Seteth, if he remembered correctly) said his name in clarity.

The edges of his lips twitched downward. It was hard to talk, but why did it have to be so difficult to say his own name?

A small mew caught his attention. Beles blinked a second too long, a tiny sign of his surprise. He felt something shift at his side, somewhere in the bedsheets. Cautiously, he untangled himself and took a peek underneath.

There, curled up near the foot of his bed, was a small little cream kitten. It meowed at the loss of the blanket, and Beles was quick to pick up the kitten in his arms. He was a sudden lost of what to do. The kitten had nuzzled its face in the crook of his neck and settled back to sleep.

Beles was not supposed to have animals in his room, that much he was sure of.

With that thought in mind, he carefully slipped out of bed and carried the kitten to the door. He managed to open the door without disturbing the kitten as he needed to use both hands to actually shove it open. Once the door quietly shut behind him, he made his way down the hall, past Rhea’s room and down the steps to the first floor.

There wasn’t anyone out, other than the early morning patrols. It wasn’t like it as intentional or anything, but Beles literally left the building just as the guards changed shifts. The kitten hadn’t made a sound, apparently comfortable in his arms.

For a moment, Beles wondered what it would be like to be a tiny baby cat. Then he remembered Seteth telling him cats kill rats and eat fish.

Fish sounded pretty good actually.

Beles stopped. He had absolutely no idea where he was. He just knew that he needed to walk, but had no definite place in mind. In fact, he had never gone further than the courtyards for afternoon teas and the dinning hall for some meals.

He didn’t realize that Rhea actually never allowed him to leave her for too long.

The thought stopped him in mid-step. Why did Rhea keep him close?

The tiny meow pulled his attention back to reality. He looked down to see the kitten staring up at him with those clear green eyes. He didn’t smile as he ran his small hand through its fur.

He resumed his walk behind a hedge as a guard patrolled by on the other side. Neither noticed each other, since the guard didn’t see the very short, little moving mint green and Beles had other thoughts on his mind.

Vaguely, he wondered if he could find that fishing pond Seteth told him about. Cats did eat fish, after all.

._._._._._._.

Alois honestly didn’t know what to do. He had been the assisting the Captain of the Knights for several years now, but it didn’t feel right to him. Jeralt, the previous captain - his mentor - was better at handling the Knights Order. Well, it wasn't that the current Captain wasn't incapable. He just seemed to be lacking in some areas that Alois took over quite a few times. Of course, Alois trained for this, but it almost didn’t seem fair. He didn’t want to believe that Jeralt was really gone, so he kept the hope that he was still alive.

Somewhere.

The mornings in the Monastery were cold, and Alois’ armor could only block so much. Maybe he should’ve assigned the morning patrol to someone else.

He did his rounds in his general area, making sure that nothing was out of the ordinary. Although, he did notice the lack of cats and dogs. He sighed and stopped just outside of the dormitories near the greenhouse. It was a tad too early for any students to be up, but he could faintly hear meowing and barking somewhere nearby.

With a curious, yet suspicious hum, Alois looked around the fishing pond. The moment he came close to the dock, a dog howled up at him as it nipping at his leg and he spluttered, “W-whoa! Oi, keep it down - hey, stop trying to bite my leg…!”

As if his shout was a calling, a combination of cats and dogs swarmed him. All of them joined the other dog and it was a sudden chorus of clashing cries of domesticated animals and armor being smacked.

“Okay, okay! What’s wrong?!” Alois noticed a few cats running back and forth between him and the fishing pond. There was another group of animals either pacing anxiously or barking at the water. It suddenly clicked.

“Don’t worry, kitten - or puppy! I’ll save you!” Alois stepped over the animals and rushed to the edge of the fishing dock. The animals parted like a wave and the captain instantly paled at the sight.

There was a pair of tiny hands gripping the last board in a bone white grip.

It was a child.

With a strangled cry, Alois dropped to his knees and reached over the edge to grab the little arms. He pulled up the child as carefully and quickly as he could. The kid flew out of the water and smacked against Alois. With the added weight of a waterlogged child, the knight toppled over and landed with a loud clank.

The happy barks and yowled almost drowned out the footsteps of other guards who heard the commotion. He looked down to see pale green eyes staring blankly at him.

“You okay, kid??” he asked. The child only blinked once and then promptly passed out. Thinking quickly, Alois gathered the kid up in his arms and barked orders to the first guard to reach him, “grab a blanket and heat up a fire place!”

Another guard who came up to him and reached for the child, “The dinning hall has one going, we can warm him up there.”

Alois nodded and let the guard take off with the kid. It was better to move quickly. The air was frigid in the winter months.

“I’ll go get a cleric!” said a student, still in her night clothes. Alois didn’t realize that he attracted a crowd. Luckily, the other guards were dispersing it. They must’ve heard the noise the animals were making.

As he got up, he was a little surprised. He had never really seen that kid around the monastery, but he was pretty sure that he was the same one that Rhea had recently taken in. Actually, now that a he thought about it, that kid’s face looked eerily familiar…

Either way, if that kid really was Rhea’s charge, then well…

._._._._._.

There was something wrong with that child. Seteth hated himself for thinking that way, but he had no other way to put it. Beles was nothing like Flayn in her early, early years of life. Children are meant to be brimming with life, a barely contained ball of energy. It was an unnerving to care for a child that was deathly silent.

No, it was never Seteth's duty to watch over Beles. He was meant to help Rhea as second-in-command to her, but...

The moment Rhea introduced Seteth to a sleepy, nameless baby when he first arrived, he decided to support her in raising him.

There was something terribly wrong with that child.

It was one of those few mornings that Rhea had woken a little early to attend to her duties and left the morning routine to Seteth. She didn’t want to wake the child at dawn.

The routine was a simple one: wake up the child, get him dressed for the day, and share a meal in the common room.

Easy. Simple.

No, it was much easier said than done.

"Beles? Come now, child," Seteth began as he knocked on the door near Rhea’s chambers. There was no need to wait for answer, as Seteth learned. Beles was a child with no words at all, or sound for that matter. "It's time to start another day."

Seteth froze when he saw the empty blankets on the bed. Clearly, there was no hint of that mint green hair peaking from the sheets.

He paled, “Oh no.”

He never ran faster to Rhea’s office in his life.

._._._._._.

When he woke up, he was bundled in many layers of linen blankets. Beles was generally warm. He sipped at the cocoa that someone gave him, but his body still shivered.

Maybe reaching into the water that was a little too far away for a fish was a bad idea.

At least he tried to feed the kitten.

The doors to the dinning hall suddenly burst open. The small circle of adults that surrounded him all turned to see who stormed right in.

Rhea practically flew in with Seteth right behind her. To Beles, they looked as it they just got terribly scared of something. Of what, he didn’t know.

“Beles!”

“Bell!”

The knights and chefs surrounding him quickly moved out of the way as Rhea reached out her hands. They reached his face and caressed his cheeks in a slightly tight grip. Beles was mindful enough to lower the cocoa to prevent it from spilling.

“Beles, are you hurt? Any scratches? Freezing??” Rhea asked. He almost didn’t catch what she said at the speed she had spoken. He only watched as Seteth placed a hand on her shoulder to calm her.

“Easy, Lady Rhea,” he told her, “Say it again, but slower this time.”

Rhea took a breath and asked the same questions, but at a slower place. She still sounded stressed as she maneuvered her hands away from his face to cup his hands.

Beles only stared.

Seteth knelt to Beles’ eye level and placed a hand on his shoulder, “Can you nod if you’re okay?”

Beles stared at him for a second, then nodded once. There was a collective sigh of relief from everyone around him.

Rhea took a moment longer to calm herself and smile, but it was clearly strained to Beles. “You gave us quite a scare, Beles. Come, let’s get you to bed. You can rest better there.” 

He said nothing, yet Rhea wasn’t phased. Instead, she turned to Seteth, “Will you take over for me? I will return to my duties later in the day.”

Seteth bowed his head, “Of course, Lady Rhea.”

With that, the half-finished cocoa was taken from him and he was gathered up in Rhea’s arms, blankets and all.

Unlike all the other times, Beles didn’t lean into her. Instead, he grabbed the blankets closer to his chest and stared at Seteth as he was carried away. 

He wanted to be carried by Seteth, or that knight.

Not Rhea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beles, I'll carry you, I swear. 
> 
> Anyway, tell me what you thought of this chapter!


	3. This Game of Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *ring ring ring*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually want to try the sweet bun trio in the game. I mean, they almost sound like dangos.

-1166 Great Tree Moon- 

._._._._._.

“Come now, Beles, you can do it,” Rhea encouraged the small boy in her lap. Beles looked up from the leather bound journal on the Archbishop’s desk, and only stared at her. They had been only at it for about an hour, but they barely made any progress. Beles’ handwriting was perfectly neat, along side Rhea’s beautiful swirls. It was clear that he could write, that he could read better that a lot of children, that his comprehension was spectacular, but...

“Here, it’s Beeellll - eees,” Rhea sounded out for him. She hopped her leg to encourage the boy to try again.

Beles focused back on the journal and ran a hand over his inked name. The recent attachment of the tiny bell on his half cloak rang softly as he moved. He took a breath (Rhea’s eyes widened in hope), and coughed.

The smile she had on her face grew strained. The cough that seemed to plague Beles every time he tried to speak sounded wet and coarse. Belatedly, Rhea felt a crawling guilt under her skin, but she clamped it down. She had already come this far.

Instead, she closed her eyes and ran a comforting hand through Beles’ hair, “It’s alright, sweet child. It’s alright if you can’t say anything just yet.” 

She let him slip off her lap, only holding his arm so that he could face her. She didn’t pause as she formed signs with her hands as she spoke, “Let’s practice that new method Seteth had been teaching you, okay?”

Beles’ eyes seemed to brighten by a fraction, and lifted his fist. He bent his wrist to raise his fist up and down.

_“Yes.”_

Rhea felt her heart swell in joy. It was only recently that they had started to teach the boy how to sign. She herself knew very little at the start. When she could, she would sit down together with Seteth to look through books to help them out. It took them a few weeks to get down enough to teach Beles the very basics. They were lucky that he picked it up just as fast.

The only downside was the lack of expression that Beles would put in his motions. It was always difficult to tell what he felt, but Rhea had learned to watch for the tiniest differences in his body language.

She put her hands to work as she talked, “It’s almost noon, so I will make some tea for us. Is there a sweet you would like?”

It was almost hilarious to watch Beles’ hands move in a quick fashion, a sign of his excitement, _“Sweet buns.”_

Rhea laughed. Of course, he wanted sweet buns. She stood up from her chair and gestured to the door, “Do you want to get Seteth for me?”

Beles gave her a short nod before he bounded out of the office with the bell ringing gently in his wake. Rhea shook her head in amusement as she moved to prepare the tea.

The child did love his sweets.

._._._._._._.

Seteth had his nose buried in work when Beles found him. He wasted no time in getting the man’s attention. He tugged on the edges of the cape insistently.

“Hm? Bel, I’m a bit busy,” Seteth said, not looking up from his papers. Beles did not pout as he proceeded to tug on the cape. The effort paid off when Seteth finally looked at him, “Bel—“

Beles quickly lifted his hands, accidentally knocking the bell to ring loudly in the small office. His hands were high enough for Seteth to clearly see them. The man almost leaned back.

_“Sweet buns.”_

Seteth’s face froze to process the fast movements before he broke into a smile with a hearty laugh, “Aahhh, I get it now. Rhea’s spoiling you today.”

He looked back to his desk, then to Beles, “Well, I could use a break from all of this.”

Beles waited patiently for the man to stand up from his chair before taking the man’s hand into his. Seteth chuckled as he gently tugged Beles to follow him, “Easy, Bel, those sweet buns aren’t going anywhere.”

Beles didn’t skip, or pick up his pace. After all, Seteth was right. The only place the sweet buns would go was his stomach.

When they arrived in the courtyard, Rhea had everything prepared. The tea was freshly brewed, and there was a trey of sweets set at the side. She sat at one of the chairs, pouring a cup across from her.

“My, I didn’t expect him to find you this quickly,” she admitted. Beles slipped out of Seteth’s grip and took his place closest to Rhea. His cup was full, and his plate had three little sweet buns.

“Well, you let him have sweet buns today, Rhea, sweet buns.” Seteth took his seat and Beles had a bun in his mouth. He chewed on it quietly, half listening to the adults chatting about one thing or another. He didn’t mind at all.

He sat there, swinging his legs under the table and sipped his tea. It was a little bitter, but it had a sweet tang to it. Beles was sure that Rhea had added a two spoonfuls of sugar just for him.

After all, Rhea and Seteth were the few that knew him best, and that fact, he honestly didn’t mind at all. 

._._._._._._.

“I learned how to wield a sword today.”

The boy in front of her said nothing, but she expected that.

“Jeralt said that I’ll get there.”

He still said nothing, but he gave a small nod. Instead, she held out her palm. He took her hand and softly traced it.

It felt odd, that was for sure, maybe even ticklish, but it was the solution that the boy came up with. She couldn’t understand the way his hands would move, but she could understand the letters he wrote on her palm.

_“Is it easy?”_

She shook her head.

“No. I’ve only started, but one day, I’ll get better than you.”

The boy stared at her for a second, then wrote on her hand.

_“I don’t know how to fight.”_

She tilted her head and her eyes widened by a fraction.

“Why?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

_“I do not know.”_

There was a tiny twitch of a frown in his lips, but his eyes clearly said that he was a bit disappointed. If anything had taught her about this boy, she knew to watch his eyes the most. She stared at him a little longer. For some odd reason, she didn’t like that look at all on him.

She took her hand back and placed it on her hip.

“I’ll teach you.”

He blinked at her, surprise flitting across his face.

“When I get better, I’ll teach you how.”

He stared, and she stared back. Then, he opened his mouth for the first time in a long while. She read his lips as they moved soundlessly.

_“I’ll hold you to that, Byleth.”_

Byleth woke up with tiny gasp. The dark room with their sleeping guardian had disappeared, replaced with the room her father rented for the night. She turned her head to see her father still asleep behind her.

Jeralt.

Jeralt was her father’s name.

It was a name she’d hold on to most.

But….

It wasn’t fair.

The boy in her dreams knew her name, but she didn’t know his. No matter how hard she tried to get his name, he would disappear before the dream ended. Sometimes, she would wake up instead. It hurt, that much she definitely knew, but she didn’t know how to show it.

Her father suddenly shifted, and she found his arms wrapped around her. Byleth looked up at him with wide eyes.

“What are you doing up? The sun’s not out yet,” he asked her in his rumbling, yet comforting voice.

Byleth gripped the front of his shirt in her hands, “I had that dream again.”

The was a small frown on Jeralt’s face now, “which one?”

“The one with the boy,” she answered, then added, “The girl was still asleep.”

She broke her gaze from her father’s eyes and cuddled closer to his chest, “I… I want to know his name.”

A hand ran through her hair and she wanted to go back to sleep again.

“Don’t worry, By,” her father assured her, “I’m sure your friend will tell you when he’s ready.”

Byleth buried her face in the night shirt and said nothing more.

She didn’t know if Jeralt was right, but when it came down to this very moment, it wasn’t fair. How long would she have to wait to learn his name? Why couldn’t the boy just write it in her palm like everything else?

It wasn’t fair at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Beles has a bell attached to him because of fish pond incident. 
> 
> I also realized that Hanneman had arrived at the Monastery in 1165, but like, I couldn't figure out where to put him in. Maybe in the next chapter or something ahahaha. 
> 
> Well, I hope this chapter was okay, let me know what you think!


	4. This Game of Broken Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *tap tap tap*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally have a general idea of where I want to go with this and I love it.

-1167 Pegasus Moon- 

._._._._._.

Beles learned a lot of things.

The winter time was freezing. Spring time was pleasantly warm. Summer was too warm. Fall was a bit cold.

The Garreg Mach Monastery was the place he lived, with the Church of Seiros. Rhea was the Archbishop. Seteth was her second in command. Alois was the captain of the knights. There was a school called the Officer’s Academy here.

There were a lot of professors here, but one mostly stood out to him.

It was that old man he had seen several times with Rhea.

He wasn’t exactly curious about that old man. It had probably been a while since he came, but Beles didn’t have a real reason to meet him. He always stayed with Rhea or Seteth during the day. Sometimes, he would watch the Knights of Seiros in their training. 

But today found him wandering the halls outside of the Audience Chambers. He got bored of making paper birds with a stack of papers on Seteth’s desk (absently, Beles realized that he probably shouldn’t have done that). Rhea’s plant probably wanted him to stop blowing at its leaves, just to watch it sway back and forth. He couldn’t go to the two of them since they had to deal with something pretty important.

He might have to have lunch with Alois again. That man was loud, but Beles learned to ignore half of the ranting that came out of him.

He stopped in front of an open door - the one that old man had been using as his office. Beles stood there for a moment before shrugging his shoulders, causing the bell to ring at the shift. The office wasn’t big. It had a strange device on the floor, and books of many sizes covered most of the walls. When he looked over to the chalk board on the other side of the room, there was someone already there.

Beles stared up at the old man in front of him. The old man stared right back at him.

“That little bell… Can I help you, little one?”

Beles didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled his gaze to the chalk board. There were so many white lines and symbols written across the surface.

“Curious about my research, are you?”

Beles tilted his head as he tried to read the board. There were more equations and long lines of a different language he didn’t understand. He recognized a few names he read in his lessons, but that was it. He gave up and looked that the old man, who gave him a very curious look.

Or at least, that was what Beles could call that glint in his eye.

Instead, Beles raised his hands and moved them slowly, just ask a simple question.

_“Who are you?”_

The old man blinked in confusion before realization dawned on him, “Aaah, so the rumors are true, you don’t say a word.”

Beles blinked. What?

“Beles, I take it?”

With his eyes slightly wide in slight shock, Beles could only nod in response.

The old man bent his knee to get to Beles’ height, “I’m Hanneman von Essar. I'm a professor in the Officer's Academy, and I do quite a bit of research here. Mostly on Crests. Say, do you happen to have one?”

Beles didn’t hesitate to tilt his head to one side with a helpless shrug.

Crests.

He heard it from Rhea many times, even Seteth. If he remembered his studies correctly, Crests were basically gifts from the goddess. He wasn’t sure if he had one of those.

The glint in Hanneman’s eyes certainly shined now. Beles took a tiny half step back.

“You don’t know?” the old man questioned, “Why, would you like to find out? I can certainly help you - Ah, I’m getting carried away. I’m sorry, little Beles, but I can’t do that without Lady Rhea’s permission.”

Beles did not frown. He forgot that he needed permission from her with a lot of things. She was legally his guardian, maybe even mother on paper. It suddenly came to him that he had the Archbishop, the leader of the biggest religion of the continent, as his parent.

Wow.

Beles dropped his shoulders a bit and looked around the room, now bored with the lack of anything to do. Maybe he could find Alois and see if they could try to fish again.

Try, as in, watch the fish swim away from Alois’ booming voice.

“Are you curious about something?” Hanneman asked as he followed Beles’ gaze. Beles shrugged again, instead of asking whatever question was on his mind - if he had any. This old man didn’t understand his signs, so what was the point?

He dropped his gaze to the strange device on the floor. Although, he was curious about one thing.

“Ah, that is my Crest Analyzer,” Hanneman answered for him, “It can tell me what Crest a person has. It’s pretty simple actually.”

Beles blinked. That was it? That literally all that was?

He felt a little down, and maybe he can call it disappointment. Instead of outwardly showing it (since he always struggled to express them openly), he nodded in understanding.

Hanneman stood to his feet, groaning as he did so, “Ohhhh, my knees are aching again! Must be all the standing I’ve been doing. Say, little Beles, what kind of candy do you like?”

Beles stared at him.

“Ah, forgive me, I forgotten you don’t speak,” Hanneman apologized. He held out a gloved hand, “You can show me with your hands. I know a little bit. You can write it on the board if need be.”

Beles did not bounce in his spot as he lifted his hands to respond.

_“Honey ginger candy.”_

Hanneman raised an eyebrow, clearly not understanding. Without much thought, Beles picked up the closest chalk and wrote in his neat handwriting.

_“Honey ginger candies”_

“Oh, those are pretty good,” Hanneman said, “you have quite the taste buds for a little one like you.”

Beles shrugged. He generally ate those candies because his throat seemed to hurt less. 

"Can you show me that again with your hands?" Hanneman asked as he lifted his own hands, "How do you sign 'honey ginger candies'?" 

It was then that the bells of the monastery chimed. It was time to meet Seteth for his lessons - if they weren’t cancelled. Beles stepped away from the board. He looked to the doorway, then to Hanneman, and back to the door.

The old man seemed to understand as he waved a hand, “Another time then. Don’t let me hold you back, now. I know you have other things to do than keep me company.”

He placed a hand on Beles’ shoulder and smiled, “Tell you what, next time we meet, I’ll have a jar of honey ginger candies, and we can chat for a little bit, maybe even teach me some sign language while we’re at it?”

Wait, what?

Beles stared at him for a long moment, thinking it over. It would be nice to talk to more people, even though Hanneman seemed a little strange. With a nod to himself, Beles lifted his fist and bent at the wrist, _“Yes.”_

It was apparent Hanneman wasn’t all to sure what Beles meant, but he nodded with a smile and ruffled his mint hair, “I’ll see you around, little Beles. Now, off you go!”

Beles did nothing else, only turning on his heel to leave. In his haste, he accidentally strode right above the Crest Analyzer, and ignored the soft glow of a gentle lavender beneath him.

He had more things to focus on.

If he looked back, he would’ve noticed a flare of a Crest, and the gobsmacked Hanneman froze in place.

If he looked back, he would’ve seen how broken, shattered, and obviously unrecognizable his Crest was.

._._._._._.

Hanneman hadn’t been at the monastery for very long, but he had learned quite a bit. For one thing, he was very grateful for Lady Rhea for allowing him to continue his research on Crests. The only real restriction that she placed on him was that her charge was off limits. If the boy ever did come up to him in his own accord, Hanneman was not allowed to see his Crest - if he had any.

He didn’t quite understand at first, as he had never been formally introduced to the child, so he agreed anyway. Hanneman has only heard rumors of the small boy, of how much trouble and stress he induced on half of the staff. Especially when it came to Lady Rhea.

Hanneman would never forget the day the Archbishop and her second in command practically flew across the monastery courtyards toward the stables. How a small little boy managed to get stuck in the stable rafters was beyond him.

So, when that said child, probably no older than six or seven, wandered into his office (that ringing bell was his only warning), he was surprised.

No, Hanneman was shocked to see how pale and ill the child looked, but he held himself so stoically that the researcher almost did a double take on the spot. He caught glimpses of this child, and never had the chance to really look at him.

Yet, the more he looked at Beles, the more he talked with him, the more he realized that the child was just a curious little one. The silence he displayed unnerved Hanneman, but he had to remind himself that yes, this child was basically mute, and no, he was not allowed to check for his Crest.

Bummer, really.

Beles seemed like a very special one at first glance. The child’s eyes were almost similar to Lady Rhea’s, and so was the hair - if not a shade or two lighter.

Hanneman just didn’t realize it until those bells rang, and the little child passed over the Crest Analyzer for only a moment.

It glowed a soft lavender and a Crest he had never seen before flashed before his eyes. It was only a second, but already he knew that something was terribly wrong with that Crest. He had never once in his life seen such a fractured, barely kept together Crest.

Hanneman stood rigidly as his mind frantically tried to come up with an explanation. What could have caused it? Was it the reason why the boy was so silent? Was that why he was so pale? A little too thin under that cloak of his? How long had he been this way? Since birth? A year?

And then it struck him that made his blood run cold.

Did Lady Rhea know?

._._._._._.

Beles fell asleep early that evening. Rhea had put the boy to bed soon after she came back from dinner with him. It wasn’t unusual, as Beles had a habit of sleeping when he could, and where he could (like the stable rafters). What was unusual was the fact that Seteth spent his time unfolding all of the paper animals Beles made in the afternoon. It couldn't be helped that they had a yearly meeting with church officials today. It was funny to watch Seteth reign in his frustration enough not to blow up in front of boy.

At least, Beles remembered to apologize politely and actually mean it. 

She settled herself in her office and she cleaned up whatever paperwork she had left to finish. She expected a quiet night.

She did not get a quiet night.

Half an hour into her work, she heard a knock on her door.

“Come in!” She looked up, expecting to see Seteth mumbling about one thing or another, but she saw a professor instead.

“Good evening, Lady Rhea,” Hanneman greeted with a bow, “May I have a moment of your time?”

She placed her feather pen down and gestured to the chairs in her room, “Of course, Professor. What brings you here at this hour?”

Hanneman didn’t sit. Instead, he stood before her with a furrowed brow, “If I may, Lady Rhea, I am concerned over your charge, Beles.”

Rhea’s guard suddenly rose, “What do you mean, Hanneman.”

It certainly sounded like a demand than a question it was probably meant to be.

Hanneman inclined his head a bit, “Your Grace, wait. It was by pure accident, I swear. The boy came to my office this afternoon. He seemed a little curious about my office. It was by pure chance that he walked over the Crest Analyzer. I didn’t mean to catch sight of it, but - I can't keep silent. I am worried about what I saw. Very worried, in fact.”

Rhea felt her anger raise, but she quickly stamped it down. Chance. It was pure and utter chance that Beles had walked over it without a thought - then again that boy barely ever did think.

She leveled a narrowed gaze on Hanneman, “Tell me, Hanneman, what did you see?”

And he told her. He told her of his concerns over the boy's physique, of how terribly fragmented the Crest was in that split moment.

“With your permission, I need to see the Crest again and—" 

“No,” Rhea was quick to interject, “No, you do not have my permission!”

She placed a firm fist on her desk as she shook her head.

No.

No. No, stop. She knew it already. She had been there to see it. She knew how damaged Beles’ Crest was. She herself could barely recognize it. She didn't want to hear it from another person. She didn't want to hear how much she failed. 

She never wanted anyone to see it.

Rhea took a deep breath to calm herself and calmly looked at the frowning professor before her.

“Lady Rhea…” he began, and she did nothing to stop him, “I know how much you care for that boy - I've seen it. I, myself, only met him for a few minutes, and I know I can’t just let this matter rest.”

Rhea uncurled her fist, though her palm had deep crescent moons imprinted on her skin.

“Professor Hanneman, I understand your concern, but I cannot allow you to look into it,” she stated firmly, “From this day forth I order you to keep silent of what you have seen today.”

“But Lady Rhea - "

“Do not make me remove you from your position.”

The real unspoken threat seemed to fully shut Hanneman up. Instead, the professor looked down and bowed politely.

“I understand, Lady Archbishop.” He rose from his bow and turned to leave. Rhea almost let him leave before calling out to him.

“Wait, Professor.”

He did, “Yes, Your Grace?”

Rhea folded her hands together and looked right into his eyes. “Forgive me for being so cross with you. I am aware of your desire to research the Crest of my dearest Beles, but for now, I ask of you to refrain from doing so. There are reasons for this, and I cannot tell you the details.”

She paused, observing the way Hanneman frowned.

“Please… until the time is right, watch over him, care for him as if he is one of your own.”

Hanneman didn’t seem satisfied, but nodded anyway, “Of course... But if little Beles’ condition worsens over time, then I will not hesitate to find a way to save him.”

No, you will not, Rhea wanted to say, that Crest will repair in time.

That much she firmly wanted to believe.

But was she willing to risk it for her selfish desires? 

Guilt slowly curled under her skin. She couldn't falter. Not now, not ever.

And yet - 

“You… you’ll have my permission by then,” she resigned instead. Her eyes burned with every word.

The professor seemed just a little relieved, “Thank you... Good night, Lady Rhea.”

“...Good night, Professor Hanneman.” Rhea watched as the door closed after him, "...and here, I should be thanking you." 

She closed her eyes and leaned back, heaving a heavy sigh. It was only for that little moment that she felt her crushing guilt lift by just a small bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like, I had a hard time figuring out Hanneman's lines, so sorry if it's a little out of character (or really out of character, ahaha) 
> 
> Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Tell me what you thought~


	5. This Game of Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *fire crackling*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't realize how into this I am. I never update this quickly wtf??? 
> 
> **Blood warning and vaguely described gore?*** I'm not sure, but yeah, it's my warning for this chapter. 
> 
> Get ready for the train wreck of nightmares----

-1167 Horsebow Moon-

._._._._._.

Beles knew where he was. He couldn’t see it, as his eyes refused to open, but he knew the very texture of the arm of the stone chair he leaned so comfortably against.

A throne, he now realized. Rhea would take him here. She would always give him that hopeful look in her eyes.

But Rhea wasn’t here.

Or at least he thought so. He was aware that someone was there.

But it wasn’t Rhea.

It wasn’t Seteth, or Alois, or Hanneman.

He wanted to open his eyes. He wanted to see who stood before him.

But he couldn’t.

Instead, he heard metal scrapingagainst a sheath and heavy steps.

He heard a breath inhaled and the beginnings of a mighty roar.

He heard a sword sing so beautifully in the air.

There was screaming. It was so loud, so jarring, that Beles felt the air in his lungs leave. He would breathe in and it left him so quickly. He couldn’t understand why.

He clawed at his burning chest, and gripped frantically at his head. Something felt tangled around his legs. He was too hot, but so damn cold.

He wanted to cry, and cry, and cry.

He wanted it to stop, to leave him alone.

His thoughts were so scra_mbled_

_Someone, please—_

_Seteth— Alois! Anyone!!_

_Hanneman— Rhea... Rhea!_

_Rhea, please!!!_

_Byleth—_

But the fire kept raging, tearing into him like he was falli ng a p art.

He couldn’t open his eyes.

He felt arms wrap around him, but it strangled him.

He fought against it, waving his arms and kicking his legs until they let go. Hands gripped at his wrist and he pulled away.

Away.

He had to get away—

But the grip was strong, almost enough to cut off his blood.

That thought only increased his struggle. He heard voices, but couldn’t make sense of it.

But he could hear a name.

_“Beles....”_

_“Bel—“ _

Right— his name. 

That was his name.

He felt a hand run through his hair and he flinched at the touch. 

The fire that raged in his very bones only grew. His throat felt raw, his lungs felt strained. 

Inch by inch, his own spine felt like it tore away. 

Then— just as suddenly— the fire died.

The screaming whittled to staggering gasps. 

The cold he knew so well, creeped up, and snared him in its grip. Not for the first time, he welcomed it, and it dragged him under its frozen embrace. 

Something jolted him wake, startling a ragged gasp from his mouth. He sat up and frantically looked around.

He only saw the familiar endless black. He saw the staircase to that throne.

Byleth wasn’t here.

He didn’t spare a second thought as he shot up to his feet. He wobbled dangerously, but he placed one foot after another. He stumbled a portion of the staircase and crawled up the rest.

His knees burned and his back ached. Faintly, he could still feel that fire burn under his skin, but he ignored it in favor of reaching the girl on the throne.

He didn’t know what he felt the moment he reached the top. The girl still slept, leaning comfortably against the arm of the chair.

Beles stumbled over to her with his hands reaching out. When he touched the cold skin, his knees dropped to the floor.

It was then he realized that he felt relieved.

The girl was fine. Nothing happened to her. She was absolutely fine. Not a scratch, or a drop of blood visible on her skin or clothes.

She wasn’t burned at all.

Beles pulled himself up to lean against the foot of the chair to stay close to the girl. He noted that her breathes were even, and she looked peaceful.

With one shaky breath, Beles sighed in relief. The rush in his body eased away and slowly relaxed. Quietly, he gently grabbed her free hand and pulled it a little closer to him. He could feel a pulse, and it matched his.

Slow and sporadic— just as it always was.

That was good.

His eyes fluttered closed.

She was alright. He was alright. They were both alright.

._._._._._.

Blood.

The entire air was choked with the heavy scent of it.

Byleth wanted to cover her nose, but she didn’t.

It was this dream again.

She stood in the middle of a field, and a battle ragged around her.

A battle so large, that it went as far as she could see. The dying screams of young and old, from both sides left her uneasy. Seeing the soldiers cut each other down burned into her memory. She didn’t like it one bit.

Large explosions shook the ground from one place to another. She still stood her ground.

She blinked and she saw a different scene. The war still raged around her, like the flames of a fire she would watch from time to time.

But the forces had parted, and two figures danced a deadly battle. She wanted to turn away, but she couldn’t. She watched, only because she didn’t have a choice in the matter. She watched a sword part like a whip. She watched it get wrenched from the giant man’s hands.

The mighty punch his opponent gave him and the kick in the face with a heel drove the man into the ground.

The woman with pale green hair pulled out a dagger as she held him down. Those green eyes narrowed into her enemy.

“Do you remember the Red Canyon, Nemesis?” she asked so clearly. She lifted the dagger and repeated stabbed the man, “Die! Die! You took everything from me!”

Byleth watched, her eyes capturing the entire exchange. She almost wanted to take a step back when the woman looked over to her. It was almost like she stared right at her.

The spine like sword laid by Byleth’s feet, and the woman half walked, half crawled to pick it up.

Byleth watched as the woman caressed the sword made of bones close to her chest and uttered a single word.

_“Mother...”_

Byleth suddenly gasped as a cold sensation snaked around her. It wrapped around her neck and she tried to pry it off, but her hands met with nothing. The battle field before started to blur and the world merged together in so many colors.

She opened her mouth to scream, to call for help, but there wasn’t a sound that left her.

Her teal eyes widened. She couldn’t make a sound.

Just like that boy in her dreams.

She reached a hand out to grab at the fading lights that grew further and further. It was no use.

The darkness that gathered at the edge of her sight melted together, sucking out the life around her.

The ground disappeared under her feet and she fell.

And she couldn’t make a sound.

Byleth cried out when she face planted the floor. It was unbearably cold. She sat up as quickly as she could, ignoring the way her body ached from the impact. She looked around and found herself in a familiar place.

The endless black and the lone staircase.

But the boy wasn’t there to greet her.

That never happened before.

She stood up to her feet and looked around. Maybe the boy was somewhere else?

There was nothing else as far as she could see. Her gaze turned to the staircase. She barely went up there herself. Only once when the both of them were curious.

Byleth trailed up the steps and the aches slowly faded away. When she reached the top, she wasn’t expecting the sight she saw.

The mint haired boy sat at the foot of the stone throne with one hand clinging on to the sleeping girl. His eyes were closed, but his face was tense. She had never seen him with that expression before. Byleth quickly strode to up to him and shock his shoulder.

“Hey- Hey, wake up.”

The boy’s eyes scrunched together and flickered open. His gaze was unfocused as he lifted his head. Byleth sat across from him, waiting patiently for him to notice her.

It took a few seconds, but those pale green eyes finally cleared and he stared back at her.

Byleth held out her hand, “What are you doing?”

The boy slowly unlatched his hand from the sleeping girl’s, (who, to Byleth’s muted surprise, didn’t move) and took the hand into his. They were like ice against her skin. He seemed to hesitate, as if he struggled to find the words to say it.

_“Nightmare.”_

Byleth blinked, but didn’t pull her hand away, “You, too?”

The boy’s grip on her hand tightened by just a bit. She took it as a sign to continue.

“I dreamed of a war… and a battle between the commanders. I dream of it a lot. At the very end of it, a lady won. She had green hair like yours.”

She stared at him. His eyes were pretty similar to the woman in her dream. There was a tiny twitch at the edge of his lips.

“What did you dream of?”

The boy stared at her. His hands gripped hers a little tighter, almost as if he was afraid to let go. They sat there, facing each other at the foot of an occupied throne. He was the first to break the gaze as he bowed his head.

Byleth was surprised when he leaned forward to rest his head against her shoulder. She could feel how much he shook. She sat there, unsure of what to do. She had done the same as him when something made her feel uneasy. She realized that he was afraid.

Jeralt would always hug her when she was distressed about something.

She could do the same for the boy.

With her free arm, she wrapped it around him. Yet, the boy didn’t stop shaking. Instead, he turned his head a little to the side and she could feel him trying to write on her hand.

She ducked her chin to try and see, but she stopped when she heard a coarse voice.

She blinked once. Then she blinked twice. Byleth stared at the canvas of a tent.

She sat up from her bedroll and crawled out of it. Jeralt was on the other side of the small tent, and she didn’t hesitate to shake insistently at her father’s sleeve.

“Jeralt - _Jeralt._”

Her father hummed in slight confusion before blinking his eyes open, “By…?”

She sat on her heels and still tugged on his sleeves.

“Alright, alright, I’m up, I’m up,” Jeralt said as he groggily sat up. He looked at her and had an expression that crossed between concern and mild surprise, “…You had a dream again, didn’t you?”

She nodded, her face still blank.

“Which one?”

“Both.”

“The war and the boy with the sleeping girl?”

She nodded and bore her eyes into Jeralt’s. She grabbed his forearms with her still small hands.

“Dad,” she began firmly, “He talked.”

Jeralt’s face settled on surprise as he blinked, “He did?”

“Yes.”

“What did he say?”

Byleth’s grip on her father’s arms tightened a little bit. She remembered how badly the boy shook, how hazy he seemed when she woke him up. She never had to wake him up before.

“He said, _‘I dreamed of fire.’_”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive me Beles and Byleth, I'll give the both of you so much sweet buns in return aaahhhhhhh
> 
> Tell me what you thought...!


	6. This Game of Names

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *whoosh whoosh plop*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, I hate school and then I got sick - I'm still right now ahahaha
> 
> *WARNING* Self harm for educational purposes. (wow those should never be in the same sentence) DON'T ever do what Rhea is doing. Please I beg of you DON'T. 
> 
> I think that's the only warning. No wait, hot cocoa. Hot cocoa's the warning.

-1168 Guardian Moon-

._._._._._.

Rhea was afraid. She almost didn’t know how to react.

It was hard enough to raise a child who could barely emote.

It was terrifying to wake up in the middle of the night to a desperate scream.

On the 26th night of the Horsebow Moon, Rhea finally realized that she messed up.

She hated to remember how she yelled at the guards to get Seteth. She hated how she couldn’t calm the screaming Beles. She could remember how pale Seteth’s grim face had gotten when he wrapped his arms around him.

She absolutely hated herself for the bruises that marred Beles’ wrists. They were healed with a simple wash of heal, but the image of them burned permanently in her memory. She wouldn’t allow herself to forget. It was likely that the boy didn’t even realize it was her.

For months, her little Beles didn’t get lost or stuck in some odd place. It was almost unnerving when no one barged in her office without warning. In fact, she was surprised that Beles made an effort to be with the staff during the day. More often than not, she woke up to him slipping into her bed chambers, just to insistently tug at the blankets to let him stay with her.

He had never done that before.

Never.

Rhea couldn’t help the guilt she felt. She gently placed her feather pen back in its inkwell as she drew herself out of her musing thoughts. Faintly, she could hear the familiar sound of a bell ringing about - no doubt that Beles was nearby. She stood up from her desk and settled herself in the couches on the other side of her office. There was a staff placed on the coffee table and a small jeweled dagger right next to it. She picked up the dagger and settled it on her lap.

She didn’t have to wait long for the soft knocks on her door.

“Come in!”

The door creaked as Beles poked his head in. There was a tiny crease in his brow as if to silently ask if he could enter.

Rhea, despite the heavy feeling on her shoulders, and the dread pooling in her chest, smiled.

“Come, Beles,” she spoke with a gesture, “let’s start your faith lessons.”

The boy let the door shut behind him as he trotted up to her. It was only recently that it was decided to start training him. She had seen him care for the small injuries of the monastery animals. It was almost hilarious to watch him poke at bandages Alois would have on him sometimes. She didn’t doubt for a second that the child had an interest in healing, especially since that night. The way he hung around the clerics convinced both her and Seteth.

The only thing that Rhea did not anticipate was how natural it seemed to come to Beles.

He easily learned the magic, almost as if it wasn’t a challenge for him. Hanneman had told her of the easy progress he made in basic spells and moved on to a step higher.

It was odd how determined the boy could be with his expressionless face. Rhea often stopped to wonder if this was the result of that night. What had the boy seen to scream that way? She tried to ask before, but the look of pain and sadness that crossed on his face for a few seconds stabbed her.

She never tried again.

Beles took a seat in front of her and took the staff in his hands. His eyes strangely eager.It only made Rhea a little less weighed down.

“Now, do you remember the spell I had you read about last night?” she asked him. He settled the staff across his lap and moved his hands.

_“Yes, Physic,” _he signed.

Rhea smiled, “Wonderful! Let’s try that right now.”

Beles nodded his head, and slipped out of his seat. He didn’t really need the staff, per say, but Rhea insisted that he used it to channel his magic a little easier. He stood at the farthest corner of her office and watched her intently.

Rhea took her time to push up the sleeve of her arm. She had done this multiple times before, only cringed a bit when she pressed the cold blade against her skin. She looked up to Beles, who clenched his staff a little tighter.

“Now, don’t worry, Beles dear, I won’t die from something like this,” she told him, “I trust you.”

He gave her the tiniest of nods.

Without a second of hesitation, Rhea easily slid the blade across her skin. The blood welled up for a moment before she felt that familiar aura of white magic wrap around her. It was different from others, maybe even sweeter than the clerics and her own.

But most of all, it was distinctively Beles - maybe even a tinge of the one she was so desperate to see again.

She looked down at her arm. It was healed beautifully, not a single sign or scar of her self-inflicted injury. It was almost as if time had reversed itself. Beles trotted up to her, inspecting his own handiwork before he looked up at her. She could tell what he asked of her, so she smiled and gently ruffled the boy’s hair with her healed arm.

“I’m alright, Beles,” she assured. She pressed a light kiss to his forehead, “You did a spectacular job! One day, you’ll become a powerful one.”

Rhea leveled him with a firm look, leaning down as she did so, “But never forget who you are, Beles.”

Beles did not smile, but she could see it in his eyes as he nodded. Rhea’s heart swelled with warmth, but her head crudely reminded her of that night. Her only hope was that Beles wouldn’t need these spells for anything but simple scratches.

At least, that was an honest lie she desperately wanted to believe, but she knew how ridiculous that was.

._._._._._.

Faith magic was nice. Beles liked how warm and light it made him feel. His lessons with Rhea were easy, and very simple to understand. He could do without the Archbishop injuring herself, but she told him it was better her than anyone else. That, and he figured that he wasn’t quite old enough yet. At least, now he knew he could easily heal anyone who needed it.

It was the same with Hanneman and his lessons in reasoning. He was only allowed to practice his spells on dummies (he broke quite a few), but he never actually seen battle like Byleth did.

Seteth taught him reading and arithmetics. Those lessons were a little boring, but he was allowed to read a few story books. Loog and the Maiden of the Wind was a pretty nice tale. If he had to read it again, Beles certainly wouldn’t mind.

Maybe one day, he could learn few things for Alois.

The winter air was cold against his skin, something that Beles had only recently learned. Of course, he knew it was freezing, but he never actually _felt it_. After all, he walked around without a winter coat once and scared Seteth. For a long time, he only felt the strange coldness that hunted him here and there, but that was only inside of him. Ever since that night, he realized that he could feel a lot of things.

He liked how soft his clothes felt against his skin. He liked how sleek cats could be and how fluffy dogs are. He didn’t like how painful it was to scrape his knee or skin his elbows.

He shivered against the cold and pulled his coat a little closer to him. He spent an hour with Rhea, who finally introduced him to light magic (he practiced his white magic enough times on Rhea, thankfully), and was left to his own devices.

Not that he had anything planned.

Seteth was a little busy with certification exams for students. Rhea had a lot of work to do (Beles figured that out when he spotted a few stacks of papers hidden underneath her desk. The Archbishop was not that great at hiding things). Hanneman had a class to teach at this hour. If Beles remembered correctly, the professor taught the Blue Lions this year.

A soft mew caught Beles’ attention. He looked down to see his favorite cream colored cat. She had certainly grown over the years, and loved to rub her face against his leg when she spotted him.

Beles did not smile, but he reached down to pick her up. She easily settled in his arms, tucking her paws comfortably with a happy mew.

He didn’t mind. In fact, he liked how warm and safe the cat felt in his arms. Beles rubbed his cheek against her fur a little bit before he walked in a certain direction.

Alois had been teaching him how to fish - well, sort of. Beles was pretty sure that the only reason why they haven’t caught any fish was the knight’s booming voice.

He only had to give a nod to the fishkeeper as he stopped in front of him.

“Ah! If it isn’t Beles,” the fishkeeper greeted, “I’m guessing you want to fish today, huh?”

Beles nodded and placed the cat down.

“Well, your timing couldn’t be any more perfect! It seems like the fish are really bitting today,” he said as he handed the fishing pole and some bait to Beles. The cat meowed in agreement for the quiet boy, something Beles was silently grateful for.

The fishkeeper left him to it as he was aware of how well he can handle himself at this point, only checking up on him with a few short glances. Beles had been here with Alois plenty of times, so he could certainly fish.

Or at least he hoped so.

He sat at the edge of the dock with his feet dangling over the water. The cat sat right next to him, ready to help at any given chance. Remembering Alois’ instructions, he hooked the bait and calmly, but surely flung his fishing pole. The two watched the hook plop into the water not to far away.

As Beles waited patiently for a fish to bite, he wondered what he and the cat could make out of it. Fish sticks? Maybe ask one of the chefs to help him bake it?

Rhea and Seteth might like that.

“Ahh! Beles, my boy!”

The quiet peace he had immediately shattered. He snapped his head around and saw Alois walking up to him, waving his arm above his head and a bright grin on his face. His armor cluttered loudly in his movements.

Beles mentally kissed his fish dinner good-bye.

The knight crossed the dock and squatted right behind him, ruffling Beles’ hair, “good to see you using my lessons on fishing! Caught anything yet?”

Beles most certainly did not pout as he shook his head.

Alois bellowed a laugh, “Don’t worry, kiddo! You’ll get one eventually. Ah, and little miss Cream Puff is here, too!”

The cat purred as the knight gave her a few pats. Beles took the moment to check on his line and gently tugged the pole. He felt a small tugs from the bait. Maybe a fish nibbled on it?

Either way, he still had to patiently wait until it—

There was a sudden tug on his pole. While he didn’t voice his shock, he spluttered something incoherent as he leaned forward to catch the pole slipping from his hands. He didn’t realize his mistake until the cat meowed.

“GaahhhBelesno—“

He felt an arm wrap around his waist before he could fall into the water. He still held on to the pole as Alois swung him back on the dock. He landed on his rear and only had a moment to dodge the flailing fish that fell his way.

There was a loud splash that showered him in water, but it left him confused. So many things happened at once. The cat sprang to hold the fish down. The fishkeeper ran down the dock. Alois was no where to be found.

“Are you okay?” the fishkeeper asked. Beles nodded and pointed to the water, eyes slightly wide. He got the message and started to help the knight out of the water.

Beles abandoned his fishing pole on the dock and helped hulling Alois to the dock. It was odd how the knight laughed the whole time. The fishkeeper heaved a heavy sigh when Alois was in the clear and Beles was alright.

“Oh good goddess,” he breathed, “at least it was you and not Beles.”

It only made Alois laugh again. For a man who just took a dip in cold waters, he seemed pretty chipper. Then again, Beles did notice that the man was always happy about something.

“Yeah, I would hate to break the streak we have going right now,” Alois agreed. Beles stood by the knight and insistently tugged him toward the dining hall. He knew from his lessons that people could get sick from a swim in cold water. It was basically the same concept here.

Beles waited for the knight to stand up before grabbing his armored, cold hand and basically pulled him along. He only glanced over to the cat snipping at the fishing line and dragging it after them. He should really treat the cat to some of that fish.

The moment they entered the dining hall, Beles picked up the cat with the fish and dropped her off in the kitchens. He then moved to the cabinet with the blankets they always used for emergencies. He grabbed an armful and trotted over to Alois, who spoke to a servant as he removed his armor by the fireplace.

“Oh! Are these for me?” he asked. Beles didn’t know what to really do, so he dropped the blankets save one, and climbed up a bench. He threw the blanket over Alois’ head and did nothing else. It only made Alois laugh again.

“Always eager, aren’t you?” He fixed the blanket around his shoulders and carried Beles off the bench. The same servant came by with towels and a tray of hot cocoa. Alois easily thanked her and handed one of the cups to Beles.

Beles took it, mindful of the heat against his skin. He took simple sips (he learned from tea that he needed to blow first - though it was a miracle his tastebuds weren't burnt off) and savored the rich chocolate. He always liked how sweet it tasted on his tongue.

“You know, I learned fishing from the previous Captain of the Knights,” Alois started as he dried himself off.

Beles blinked with a slight tilt of his head. It was usual of the knight to rattle a tale, but for some reason this felt a bit different.

“He would swing his lance and swords would break. I was even his squire once! But... he disappeared after the great fire,” Alois said. Beles stared at him, but the knight broke into a chuckle and ruffled his hair.

Why did everyone always mess with his hair?

Last he checked, he wasn’t a cat.

“You remind me of him, you know? He was pretty bad at showing what he felt. Just like you.”

Beles was curious now. He settled the cup on his lap and pulled at the damp sleeve of Alois.

“Hm?”

Beles knew that the knight wasn’t well versed in sign language, but hopefully he knew at least the alphabet. So, with a slight tilt of his head, he spelled out a single word, slowly and over and over until he was understood.

“Oh! His name? He's called Jeralt, the Blade Breaker! Get it? Because he broke swords and all...”

Alois prattled on, but Beles wasn’t listening anymore. He heard that name so many times before.

He blinked as a sudden thought dawned to him.

But why?

Why had he never heard it from Rhea if that man was the Captain of her knights not too long ago?

Why had he only heard Byleth say it?

He was drawn out of his thoughts when the cat meowed below him. He silently watched as the cat gracefully leapt to his side and curl comfortably next to him. Alois seemed to rant on, even as he wrapped himself up in the blankets Beles brought. As he ran a hand through the cat's fur, he felt a bit tense, and he didn't know why. He took a sip of his cocoa and nodded to himself. 

He'd ask Byleth about it once he got the chance. 

._._._._._.

Beles didn't remember to ask when he went to bed that night. 

“I fell out of a tree today.”

Beles blinked in slight surprise. He reached out a hand and instinctively cast a simple healing spell. His magic washed over her and she almost seemed to laugh.

“I’m not hurt. I landed on a bandit, so I’m okay.”

Beles almost scoffed. As if landing on a bandit was any better.

“Jeralt managed to kill them before they knew it.”

She pouted.

“I need to learn how to fight better. I don’t want to be a burden.”

He gave her a look and she instantly read it. Instead of answering his question, she gave her own.

“What about you? How’s _your_ training going?”

Beles knew that she asked about his lessons with Rhea and the others. He shrugged his shoulders and waved a hand. The air shifted a little and little lights sparkled around them. It was odd how magic could manifest here, but he didn’t bother to question it.

“I wish you could talk.”

Byleth said it so suddenly that Beles’ mouth almost dropped. The look on her face showed a hint of sadness.

“I wish I could hear you tell me what you’re learning.”

Her hands clenched at her side.

“I wish I could hear you say my name.”

Her teal eyes bored into his pale green.

“I wish I could hear your name.”

Beles dropped his hand, almost frozen in surprise. He almost didn’t know how to respond. He wanted to tell her, to talk to her. Without a second thought, he allowed himself to just move. He leaned forward and grabbed her hands into his. She didn’t back away when he leaned to rest his forehead on hers. He tightened his grip as he gathered his strength to whisper a single word.

It was quiet, airy, shuddering - barely heard, even in the darkness that only held the three.

_“Beles.”_

._._._._._.

Byleth gasped as she shot up from her bed roll. She only paused for a second to get her bearings. The tent - she was in her tent with her father again. Throwing back the heavy blankets, she scrambled out of her roll and threw herself at Jeralt. 

"Gu--Uggh!" Jeralt spluttered at her sudden weight and quickly sat up, reaching for his sword.

Byleth grabbed his arm and lightly shook it. She struggled to find the words as she attempted to gain his full attention "Jeralt, dad-- Je-- Dad." 

"Byleth! What's-- we're not under attack?" Jeralt asked her, finally awake and very much alarmed at her actions.

She shook her head vigorously, "It's Beles." 

Jeralt gave her look of utter confusion before gently grabbing her shoulders to get her to calm down, "Hey, easy, By. What are you talking about?" 

Byleth didn't smile, but it practically showed in her eyes as she relayed her newest find. 

"I found out his name, dad," she practically breathed. The raised eyebrows from her father didn't stop her as she plowed through, "I finally managed to get him to say it-" 

She didn't notice her father frowning so deeply as she spoke, "His name is Beles." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Byleth had any more emotions, she'd probably tear up with joy. I would too. 
> 
> The updates might be slower because school is really picking up aaahhhhhhhhh
> 
> But yeah, tell me what you thought!


	7. This Game of Ceremony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *twirls*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay like, can FE Three Houses let Byleth dance? They both would’ve looked AMAZING in those outfits.
> 
> Edit: I totally didn't even realize that I didn't finish naming this chapter and it was named the same as the last chapter. ahahaha

-1168 Harpstring Moon-

._._._._._.

He didn’t remember falling asleep.

Beles blinked once. He found himself standing in his usual place in that dark endlessness. He looked and noticed that Byleth wasn’t around either.

Maybe he took a nap? Then again, Beles did sleep when his eyes wouldn’t stay open. Byleth would only appear in the night. He shrugged to himself and turned toward the steps. His light footfalls echoed in the silence as he made his way to the top.

Rhea lied about staffs. It was easier to cast without it. Well, to Beles. He wasn’t sure if it was true of others. He raised his hands and cast a simple heal to see what would happen.

The girl in the stone throne hadn’t moved.

He felt something prick at him, and at this point, Beles was almost sure it was disappointment. It wasn’t the first time he attempted this. He had lost count of visits he spent trying to heal the girl - impromptu naps and long nights.

He didn’t know if she was hurt or not, but he didn’t know any other way to wake her. If he could bring his cream colored cat, then maybe he would have a chance. Byleth and him had already tried to shake her awake, or make enough chaos to rouse her - but those attempts only had them waking up instead.

To some degree, it frustrated him.

His dreams of fire weren’t his. He started to understand those dreams were never his. They were the girl’s dreams, maybe even memories.

Rhea told him over and over how his healing magic felt warm and gentle.

Beles wondered if the girl could feel that too.

The magic in the air gradually faded. He waited a little longer, a bit too hopeful to turn away now.

But nothing happened.

Beles dropped his hands and looked down at them. Was he not reaching her?

“_You…”_

A voice floated in the air.

Beles froze. There was a shuffle of clothes before him and lazy yawn.

_“You… really are a cheeky brat.”_

Beles slowly lifted his head, and his gaze was meet with sleepy eyes as green as his.

_“Oh my, look how you’ve grown…”_

Beles blinked and the sun blinded him. He shifted as far away from the sunlight as he dared. It was a dumb idea as he suddenly clambered to the to floor. He could only manage a painful grunt when one of his books landed on the small of his back. He laid there as he attempted to gather his thoughts.

He gritted his teeth as he finally opened his eyes. He stared down at the library floorboards in a daze. To say that he was surprised was an understatement. That girl - she woke up.

She actually _woke up_.

It almost made him forget that he couldn’t name what he felt at that moment.

Did he actually reach her?

The afternoon sunlight shown through the stained glass of the library windows as the bells of the monastery rang.

Afternoon.

Beles’ eyes widened. He scrambled to his feet, knocking more books to the floor. He did his best to clean up his space.

The books were haphazardly stacked, but it didn’t waver. His papers were gathered in his arms and he pushed in his chair with his hip. His bell rang loudly as he bolted from his study space and down the steps of the second floor. He ignored the odd looks he got from students almost twice his age.

“What on Fodlan— Beles? You’re still here?” came an old voice, “and no running in the library!”

Beles only gave the old librarian (Tomas, he believed his name was) an apologetic nod as he scampered out of the library.

“Beles!”

He was late.

He was very late.

Beles broke into a sprint as he hastily made it to his room. He dropped his papers (an essay Seteth made him write - it was probably out of order now) in a heap on his desk and grabbed the clothes laid out on his bed.

It was almost similar to the ceremonial robes Rhea always wore, but it was modified to fit his age and size. He clumsily changed into it. Unfortunately, the sleeves were still a little too long for him, even when he folded it up. He took a moment to untie the bell from his casual clothes. He didn’t waste any time finding a place to tie it to, so he wrapped it around his wrist as left his room. Rhea made it a rule for him to never part with it.

He still wasn’t too sure why.

Beles made his way to the Cathedral in record time, despite his face being flushed and huffing breaths from his sprint. He figured he was lucky that the choir had already started. They were loud enough to cover up the sounds of his bell as he hurried inside.

“Coming a little bit too late, don’t you think, Beles,” came a stern voice. Beles did not flinch when he felt someone grab the back of his cape. He looked up to see Seteth’s unimpressed eyes. He wasn’t actually trying to sneak in.

He just wanted to enter unnoticed.

Beles raised his hands, _“I fell asleep. Sorry.”_

Seteth sighed for a moment, then eventually laughed a bit, “Come, it’s almost time for your part.”

Beles nodded, and followed him to the front of the nave and before the alter. The choir’s part in the song was almost over when he gripped the staff that Seteth gave him. It almost towered above him, but it wasn’t too heavy for him with its white ribbons swaying about. Seteth gently placed a gold circlet fitted with flowers similar to Rhea’s.

“Now, just like you practiced. Simple, right?”

Beles looked at the open space before the gathered crowd. He knew it was just a dance: a few steps here, few steps there, then a simple swing of his staff to finish. He practiced it several times earlier this month. He nodded. The choir stopped and Seteth smiled.

“Just breathe and do you best, Bel,” he wished him. Beles didn’t respond as the organ played in the background, prompting his entrance. He gripped the staff with two hands and took his first step.

._._._._._.

Beles was late, and Seteth didn’t know what to do with himself. He paced back and forth, straining his ears to hear the familiar sounds of a bell. He clearly remembered telling the boy to be on time, come about half an hour before the ceremony started. Of course, he already asked Rhea to delay the ceremony, or even to take his place, but the Archbishop only said, “Have faith, Seteth, our little dear will come soon.”

The blessings ceremony of Saint Macuil Day proceeded without Beles. The opening remarks of Rhea passed smoothly, and the beginning of the ceremony to honor Saint Macuil eased into song.

Beles still wasn’t anywhere to be seen. It was his first time that he would perform his duty as the Priest to pray for blessings of the Goddess. It was near the end of the ceremony, but honestly, that boy really pushed it.

By the time Beles’ part came close, Seteth was about to walk out of the Cathedral to hunt for the boy, but it would be too late. He was surprised when he heard frantic ringing despite the choir singing loudly. Seteth immediately grabbed the cloak that tried to walk right past him.

“Coming a little late, don’t you think, Beles?” He tried to put up a stern voice and unimpressed, but the way the boy’s face was flushed and huffing to catch his breath almost made Seteth loose his composure. It was clear that he just woke up with how bleary his eyes were. Beles’ hair was out of place and the sleeves were clearly too long for him.

_“I fell asleep. Sorry.”_

Fell asleep.

Of course, the boy had to fall asleep. It was a trait that Beles happened to develop recently. It was a bit worrying, but it didn't seem too out of the ordinary. Seteth really wanted to be disappointed at him, but he found it funny instead. Beles had really made an effort to make it here on time.

“Come, it’s almost time for your part,” told him. Beles took his offered hand and kept up with his fast pace. Seteth took the time to quickly fix the boy’s appearance, and handed him the ceremonial staff. Beles had only practiced once with it. The golden circlet that was prepared for Beles fit the boy perfectly, and Seteth almost froze. It was strange how Beles looked a little different with his new outfit. He looked more like a saint than the blank child he really was.

“Now, just like you practiced. Simple, right?” Seteth watched as the boy looked to the alter and nodded. When the choir stopped singing, he gave the boy an encouraging smile, “Just breathe and do you best, Bel.”

The organ began to play and Beles slipped out of his reach.

Seteth watched from the sidelines. When Rhea said that it was time for Beles to take up the duties of the Church, he honestly wasn’t expecting this. Surely it was strange for the quiet boy to take up the duty of a Priest on ceremonies like this. It was only now that Seteth had seen the boy in action did he understand.

The way Beles moved with confidence and fluidity in his graceful dance, Seteth was instantly reminded of the Goddess. It seemed like whole Cathedral lit up, as if the blessings were really there. It must’ve been just the trick of the light or something, but for a moment, Seteth could’ve sworn he saw something shimmer behind Beles.

Beles didn’t sing, but he opened his mouth and the words formed on his lips.

The prayer to the Goddess for blessings.

There wasn’t a sound, but strangely enough, Seteth could hear the words as clear as day.

._._._._._.

Rhea smiled as she watched from above. She had seen Beles slip in, and Seteth add the finishing touches. She knew in the the boy would make it on time. While Beles was not one to pay attention much, he was certainly one who kept with scheduled times - even albeit late.

She could see the surprised faces of some of the attendants. Those who were not already familiar with the boy had looked at her in confusion. The other Priest, who stood next to her, leaned a bit toward her and muttered, “Lady Rhea, are you _certain_ that the boy is perfect for this job?”

Rhea almost wanted to laugh and ask herself that same question. Instead, she nodded her head confidently, “Yes.”

The organ played and Rhea beamed like a proud mother.The atmosphere seemed to brighten at the mere presence of him. She had a leaking suspicion as what could’ve caused it - she felt it before in many of those healing lessons. Her uneasiness was shoved down in order to enjoy the moment.

Her decision of making Beles a Priest-in-training wasn’t in vain. In fact, she knew that one day she wouldn’t be able to continue as the Archbishop.

That, and her guilt drove her toward it. If she could forget what she had planned for this child, then maybe this could fix it. Maybe it could anchor him some way. She had seen how distant he would be, or how he struggled to interact with others.

It was no doubt that Beles didn’t fit the role at first glance. Rhea herself wasn’t too keen with the idea either. She wasn’t quite ready to give up her ambitions, of her long running experiment.

But…

The more she looked at Beles, the more she wanted to give him a life - something to look forward to.

She needed to give him an anchor, a place to root himself so that he wouldn’t slip so far out of her reach. Maybe starting him on this training was a bit much for a young boy, and maybe down the road she could give him that opportunity to leave her care.

Yet, Beles didn’t seem like he wanted to leave the monastery anytime soon. He studied magic under Hanneman’s watchful eye. He learned the basics from Seteth. He practiced healing with rhea. He had a place in the monastery, but she knew he didn’t have to serve under the Church. She asked him if he wanted to do it before finalizing the decision. She asked him twice.

Beles’ answer never changed.

As Rhea watched him wave the staff at the end of his routine and mouth the prayer, she came to realize something.

Beles’ answer was not out of her request, but was completely and utterly out of his own conviction.

"I wonder..." Rhea whispered to herself as her eyes grew soft when Beles looked up to her with his pale green eyes, "Did your fragile heart give you your answer?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm literally tempted to draw Beles wearing his ceremonial outfit now. Like - extremely tempted. I won't be surprised if I do it this week aaaahhhhh-
> 
> Sorry, no Byleth this time, but she'll come back with our favorite little goddess now that she's awake. 
> 
> Ah, right at this point in time, Beles is now uhhhhhh-- he's nine years old, I think. I also have no idea what in the world goes on during the Saints' day, so I just made it up - not the best, but it's something. That, and I really wanted to make Beles dance. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed this one!


	8. This Game of Feathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *flutter flutter-- wet splatter*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay there are two dates in this chapter. The first starts immediately after the day in the last chapter. the second is another year. 
> 
> We're almost there!!

-1168 Harpstring Moon-

._._._._._._.

“Hmmmm? You’re here again?”

Beles stared at the girl in front of him. Her eyes mirrored his own in color. He honestly did not expect that.

“Are you sure you’re not here for my spot?”

Beles blinked once. He wasn’t. Her spot wasn’t exactly warm to begin with.

“For a cheeky brat, you’re awfully quiet.”

The girl placed an elbow on the armrest and brought her hand up to her chin.

“Tell me, you must have a name.”

Beles didn’t know how to answer.

“Oh wait, no. I already know what it is.”

The girl waved a hand and gestured him to come closer, “Come, Beles, let me have a closer look at you.”

He didn’t know how she knew his name. He covered the small distance between him and the throne. She reached over to touch his face. He didn’t flinch. It felt a lot different than Rhea’s touch.

“You don’t know who I am, do you?”

Beles stared at her and slowly shook his head. She smiled.

“Neither do I. How strange… I know nothing of myself, yet I know you as if you are mine.”

His eyes only widened by a fraction. Beles didn’t understand what she said. The girl pulled back and looked past him.

“Hm? More children? I don’t remember seeing you before.”

Beles followed her gaze.

Byleth was there at the top of the steps. Her eyes were wide in surprise.

“You… Who are you?” the girl asked her.

“…Byleth.”

Beles stepped away from the nameless girl, who hummed, to stand by Byleth. She was obviously confused if not surprised. He only touched her hand to let her know he was just as surprised.

The girl leaned forward.

“Tell me, child, under what Moon and day were you born into this world?”

“20th of Horsebow Moon.”

Beles blinked. What?

“Oh! How odd - we all share the same day!”

She sat back and gazed at them intently.

“This feels all so familiar - I’m not sure why.”

She sat up and her hands gripped the edge of her seat for support.

“Wait! What are mere children doing in a place like this?”

The girl suddenly stood up with a clap of her hands, and stepped away from her throne. Beles was a bit confused when Byleth took a small step in front of him. What was she doing?

“Well! I have not the slightest idea of how you children are here, but I guess it’s up to me to care for you!”

Beles shared a flat look with Byleth. He could tell that she wasn’t very happy with that idea. He, himself, didn’t know what to think of it.

“You both may call me Sothis! I am also known as ‘The Beginning’.”

Sothis paused with confusion on her face.

“Oh? How…. odd. I did not remember my name until now.”

“Sothie.”

“What?”

The girl looked at Byleth, who looked at Beles.

Beles didn’t even shrug as he wrote on Byleth’s hand again. She stared at him impassively.

“You want to call her Sothie.”

There was a twitch of his lips. Sothis gasped and pointed at him.

“Sothie?! Absolutely not! I am— I am…”

Beles stared at Byleth, almost as if he dared her to say anything else. As one, they both turned to their newest friend with their blankest of faces.

“We’re calling you Sothie.”

“Excuse me?! I did not agree to thi— Hey!”

Beles didn’t bother to listen to her rant as he suddenly tapped her outstretched hand. He spun on his heel and pulled Byleth down the steps. She seemed to get the message halfway through as she called over her shoulder.

“You’re it, Sothie.”

Together, they easily fell into an old routine, one he did not mind at all.

“Get back here!”

Well, with a new member to play with of course.

“Will you both stop running and let me _catch you!!” _

All that echoed in the odd, odd darkness was the sound of pattering bare feet of children and their only guardian yelling small threats as she scrambled to catch them. 

It was then that Beles realized something. 

_Sothie_ was actually _awake_ to play with them. 

-1169 Blue Sea Moon-

._._._._._.

It was raining today. Beles didn’t mind it at all.

In fact, he liked to walk in it. Especially since it would mean he technically took a bath—

While walking.

In the rain.

He always got caught though. The entire staff knew what to look for at this point. Strangely enough, there wasn’t many out - in fact they all seemed to be scrambling for shelter.

“Beles, for the last time— get out of the rain!” Sothis snapped. Beles fought the urge to give her a look as he grudgingly ducked under the stables. He unlatched the closest door and slipped right in.

“Oh, do not give me that attitude, Bel!” Sothis began as she floated right next to him, “now, take off your cloak — It’s all soaked!”

Beles did not frown, and did as he was told. He hung it over the closest stall to dry, while the rain outside poured.

He almost didn’t know what to think of Sothis. At first, he was just— what was the word? Happy? No, actually, he was more than happy and really relieved that she was awake. Unfortunately, she seemed to nag on almost everything he did.

No one ever told him that he shouldn’t dig in the mud for fish bait.No one ever told him to not sleep in the sauna (it was warm— how could he not?). No one ever scolded him for running down the stairs when he was in a rush.

Only Sothis did.

She even told him to not to eat his sweet buns before dinner or he’d spoil his appetite.

His _sweet buns _that Rhea personally gave him.

What kind of rule was that?

Vaguely, he had wished Sothis stayed with Byleth today, or took a nap. He could definitely do without the scolding. She was almost like a second Rhea or something.

One Rhea was enough.

The horses neighed at his presence and a few cats trotted up to him. Beles gave the cats a quick pat on their heads and stared out of the top half of the stable doors. He wasn’t all that surprised that no one was around. It was almost noon, and no one would have half the mind to wait out a storm in the stables.

Beles had a strong urge to facepalm. He really should’ve noticed that it was a bit too rainy to be a gloomy day.

“How in Fodlan does the monastery ever keep track of you?”

Beles reached his ever present bell tied around his neck and flicked it. It rang obnoxiously. At the corner of his eye, he could see Sothis bury her face in her hands with a mutter that sounded like, “I should’ve just slept today.”

The rain didn’t seem to let up anytime soon, and the horses seemed a little antsy. Beles came up to each stall and hoisted himself at the edge with a hand to support himself as he petted them all, one by one. He made two rounds with the horses before he made himself comfortable against a haystack. While he would’ve preferred a blanket, the pile of cats that curled against him was enough. He watched the rain fall from the grey sky, wondering if Rhea wouldn’t mind if he skipped his duties today.

Originally, he planned for a trip to the market. The Goddess’ Rite of Rebirth was soon, and grand preparations were underway. He lost count of how many rehearsals he already went through, so now was his only free time. He knew it was about to rain since the air was humid and the clouds looked heavy. He just didn’t anticipate it to rain this hard.

“Honestly, what am I going to do with both of you? You’re just as terrible as Byleth on a sunny day.”

Well, Beles never asked her to watch over them - it was all her idea.

“Wait— you didn’t tell anyone where you were going, did you?”

He didn’t.

Sothis sighed yet again as she sank to the floor with a hand on her hip.

“Tell me, you must have a reason for braving the rain like a fool. Go on.”

Beles raised his hands and spelled out every single word. He never taught Sothis further than the alphabet just yet.

_“I planned to buy seeds.”_

Sothis placed a hand on her chin with a hum, “What for?”

Beles didn’t answer when a light flashed as bright as noon day. A few seconds later a loud thunder followed. He was not prepared for the sudden bundle of wetness that smacked into his face. His bell rang loudly and cats yowled as he fell through the haystack.

“Bel! Are you okay?”

The wet bundle on his chest floundered around and he could feel claws scraping his skin. Belesquickly sat up and caught it before it could scratch him anywhere else.

“What is that??” Sothis asked. She hovered next to him as he took a closer look at the squirming mass of... wet feathers?

His mind suddenly clicked.

A bird.

A bird just flew into him in a thunderstorm.

“Beles?”

He quickly, but gently, ran his hands over the feathers to wipe as much water out. It was small, and thoroughly soaked to the very bone. He felt the wings to search for anything that felt out of place. There was an odd sound the bird made when he touched a joint.

He carefully rearranged his hold on the bird to rest it against his chest. Beles was glad that Sothis kept quiet as he closed his eyes. He had healed cats and dogs of their injuries, but never birds. Even so, he focused a small amount of his magic and cast a heal.

Under his hand, he felt the odd bones shift into place and lumps to smoothen out.

“Ah, the poor bird looks much better now. Good job, Bel! But what is a small thing doing in a weather like this?”

Beles opened his eyes to see Sothis hovering her hands over the bird, almost as if she wanted to hold it herself. For a second, he wanted to let her.

Lightning flashed and thunder rolled again, and Beles was able to identify the bird.

It was a baby white owl.

“Oh, it’s shaking! Go find a blanket.”

Beles looked around and didn’t see any in sight. He shook his head at Sothis and raised a hand.

_“I do not see one.”_

“Oh no, what are we going to do? Ah! No. I will not allow you go out in that rain again.”

Beles did not pout.

He looked around again, but the three cats that scrambled away came back. A cat curled against his side, another at his leg, and the last nosed at the owl in his arms.

He blinked.

_“Cats.”_

“What? No! They’re going to eat it!”

Beles decided to prove her wrong as he coaxed the one by his leg to lay with the other cat at his side. It took a bit of finger snapping and petting, but he managed to get the cats in one place.

Slowly, he gently placed the owl in the middle of the warm pile of cats.

There.

“Huh. Well, I suppose they could keep the owl warm.”

Sothis crosses her arms.

“What about you? You’re shaking.”

Beles got up and grabbed his still drenched cloak. He twisted it to get as much water out before he wrapped it around himself.

“_No!_ Child, noooo! Take that off right now. You’ll catch a cold!”

Beles did not heave a sigh and did as he was told.

He really wished that Sothis took a nap or something.

._._._._._.

Beles went missing again.

Despite her calm appearance, Seteth was well aware that Rhea was not calm.

At all.

She paced back and forth in the tiny space of Beles’ empty room. Seteth stood at the doorway to stay out of her way. When the storm came, it was expected as it built up over the past few days— but not a sudden downpour.

They only found out that Beles was missing when Seteth suggested to have afternoon tea with the boy. Tomas claimed not to see him. Hanneman heard a bell ring past his office. Alois wasn’t in at the moment. The cleric in the infirmary caught a glimpse of Beles going down the hall.

“Rhea, I’m sure he’s fine—“ Seteth began, but he couldn’t finish.

“Seteth, there is a nine— almost ten year old boy wandering about in the rain— no, a _storm_ and you, of all people, _know_ how he is.”

“Rhea—“

“He’ll get soaked without even realizing it! He’s not wearing his overcoat—” She emphasized the point by pointing to the said overcast hanging on a hook by the door.

“Rhea—“

“What if he slips and hurts himself? What if he gets blown away? He’s never been that heavy to begin with—“

“He’s not going to—“

“What if he gets lost? He’s so small— What if he gets kidnapped?”

Seteth took that moment to take a deep, deep breath and exhaled. He had dealt with her unnecessary worry rants before, and at this point, he was certain that she changed a lot since he reunited with her. Who know that adopting a random child would make her an almost unbearable mother?

“Rhea,” he began firmly. The Archbishop almost glared at him as he continued, “You said it yourself, Beles is almost ten. He can handle himself very well, even if he is a little odd. He won’t leave the monastery either. Besides, if someone tries to kidnap him - which is highly unlikely - Professor Hanneman taught him blizzard just last week. This is literally a passing storm. He’s probably taken shelter in the other buildings.”

“But—“

“Come now, the boy is smart and very resourceful. Have you seen him ration out his sweet buns to make them last long enough without spoiling?” Seteth shook his head at the memory, “Do you not trust him?”

He held her burning gaze before Rhea sighed.

The archbishop sank into Beles’ desk chair and placed a hand to her head, “You’re right... It’s just—“

Thunder clapped through the sky and Rhea sighed again. Seteth could clearly see the worry in her eyes. He was worried too, since the storm outside the window was oddly violent. At the same time, he wasn’t. He had literally seen the boy jump from the second floor and land on his feet once - must had been the influence of the cats he always cared for. Beles was far more observant than Rhea always gave him credit for. It was only a matter of time before Seteth would take it upon himself to train him to hold a weapon. The telltale signs of Beles’ unusual agility almost concerned him.

“Beles will be fine,” Seteth assured her, but his words were nearly drowned out by the crack of thunder.

._._._._._.

Beles took a peek out the stable door and noted the rain had lightened up. The thunder eventually died down and he only heard rain outside. It wasn’t all clear, and heavier than a drizzle, but it was enough to let him hurry back to the main building. He ducked back in and shook his cloak. It was relatively dry as he inspected it.

“Hey - you’re not going back out there are you?”

Beles raised a hand and painstakingly signed.

_“I cannot take care of the owl here. I must go back home.”_

“What?”

Beles didn’t respond as he threw his cloak back on and lightly nudged at the napping cats. He didn’t know how long he had been stuck here, so he knew he had to get back. It was hard to tell when it was still dreary outside. He gently cupped the damp, but warm baby owl in his hands, and felt it snuggle against his palm. It made his lips twitch.

He watched the cats wake up and stretch before shifting his hold of the owl. The cats would be fine without him. The owl rested in the crook of his arm and pressed against his chest. It made little chirping sounds as it clicked its beak at him. Beles only gave it a tiny pet with the tip of his finger and wrapped his cloak a little closer to himself.

“Hmmm, I wonder why animals like you so much,” Sothis said as she shook her head. She turned to the stable doors and gestured him to follow her, “Come along— we must get back before you get into any trouble.”

Beles swept his eyes over the stable one last time. The cats seemed content to stay were they were and the horses only watched him from their stables. He threw his hood up and finally clicked the stable door open.

“Hurry, hurry! This way!” Sothis called to him.

The owl squirmed in his light grip, but Beles didn’t feel any of the water falling on it. He followed Sothis past the graveyard, into the Reception Hall, and passed by a guard.

“Pfgh— Beles?! You’re soaked!” spluttered the nearest knight. Beles only gave them a quick nod of acknowledgement and trotted up the staircase at the end of the smaller hall. He ignored the wide eyed stares he got from staff and visitors alike. It was probably his bell that caught their attention.

He only sneezed once when he got to the second floor and his bell rattled violently.

Almost out of no where, Hanneman rounded a corner.

“Bel! Thank the goddess, you’re alright!”

Beles almost dropped the owl in his arms at the tone the old man used with him. He shared a look with Sothis (although she had the face that clearly said, “you asked for it”) before he looked at Hanneman— no, not just the old man— Rhea and Seteth were right behind him.

“Ah, you certainly are in trouble now, child.”

By the look in Rhea’s eyes, he didn’t dare to disagree.

“Beles! Where have you been? You should’ve known not to go out!” Rhea said as she dropped to her knees and grabbed his shoulders. He almost dropped the owl, which was still hidden under his cloak, in surprise. “Oh, you are completely drenched!”

Hanneman appeared at his other side with a face of concern and maybe relief - Beles couldn’t tell.

The heavy coat the professor wore was wrapped around his shoulders and it smothered him in a sudden warmth.

“Goodness, child— You must be freezing.”

It was then that Beles realized that he was shivering. Everything felt too warm against his skin.

He wasn’t prepared for someone to carry him from behind. His feet left the ground and he felt an arm under his knees and another supporting his upper back. He was held against Seteth’s broad chest. The owl in his arms made a sound and fluttered its wings.

“What were you—“ Seteth began, but stopped. Beles was confused at the sudden pause.

“An owl?” Rhea questioned. Beles tried to rescue for the baby bird fluttering out of his reach. He only saw it drop out of the corner of his eye.

He panicked.

Sothis gasped somewhere, “Beles, stay put!”

His eyes widened when he felt himself tip too far away from Seteth’s chest. Luckily, he felt the older man quickly heft him back into place, but his hands couldn’t reach the owl. There was a strange, strangled sound that felt odd in his throat.

“Easy, Bel— I’m not going to drop you.” Seteth hugged him closer and Beles had no choice but to fist his shirt. He didn’t want to fall again.

“Seteth, take him to his room - I’ll take care of this little one and meet with you shortly,” he heard Rhea say. What did she mean by that? Was she going to let it go?

“Of course, Lady Rhea.”

Beles didn’t want to leave, even though Seteth turned on his heel. He shifted and made a strange noise again in his throat. He didn’t want to leave the owl alone— even if Rhea had it in her care.

It wasn’t right.

“Don’t worry, Bel!” Sothis said as she hovered in his sight, “Rhea’s got the owl! Now will you please relax?”

That didn’t reassure him at all. Beles shifted again and again and tugged insistently at Seteth’s shirt.

“Beles, stop—“ Seteth tried. There was something in the man’s voice, but Beles wasn’t sure what to call it. He raised one hand and quickly spelled one word over and over again in front of his face.

“Owl? That little baby owl? You don’t want to leave it?”

Beles nodded vigorously. He needed to know that it would be okay.

Seteth frowned as he tucked Beles under his chin, “Don’t worry, Rhea will return the owl to you, _but_ you _need _to listen to me first, okay?”

Beles bit his lip, but grudgingly nodded. His grip on Seteth loosened and the strange warmth he felt made him uncomfortable. He didn’t like it one bit.

He barely realized that he was back in his room. A tender hand rubbed circles on his arm and another brushed his bangs away.

“Rest now,” he heard Seteth say, “When you wake up, the owl will be right here with you.”

Beles didn’t want to sleep, but he could feel Sothis pulling him under. If resting really meant that the owl will come back, then he’d let her drag him into that familiar cold.

._._._._._.

“Are you trying to get yourself sick?!” Sothis snapped at him.

Beles resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He needed to save the owl - not that he knew why he wanted to. He didn’t want it to get hurt again. Maybe it was because it was so small?

It was a baby owl.

He wondered where its mother went.

Sothis sighed and sank into her stone throne. She seemed exhausted. Was it his fault?

“Beles, come here.”

He pulled himself away from his thoughts and sat next to her on her chair. It was big enough to fit the two of them. Maybe when Byleth arrives, she could sit with them too.

“I have put you to sleep for now. You certainly caught something from that rain.”

Ah, so that was why he felt tired and dizzy. He brought his legs to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. He still felt cold.

“How foolish can you be?”

Very, apparently.

“Ah, never mind that. For now, review with me. After all, _someone_ needs to teach Byleth how to sign. Honestly, I can never understand how patient you both are when it takes so long for you to write on her hand!”

Beles did not smile—

But his eyes did sparkle as he spelled out one word.

_“Ha.”_

“Wha—what is that supposed to mean??”

He didn’t bother to elaborate, though he could feel how light he was despite the dizziness. He leaned back and kept only one hand raised to recite the alphabet.

“W-wait! Slow down! It’s hard to copy your hands when you move that fast!”

Beles gave her mercy and slowed his motions. He could feel his hand getting tired anyway. He watched how concentrated Sothis seemed as she copied his movements and said the letters out loud.

“H…I….Jaaaaaay…. Kaaaayyyy—”

For once, he fell asleep on her.

._._._._._.

When Beles woke up a few days later, he found the same little white owl nestled in the crook of his neck and the bright morning sunlight streamed through his window.

The storm was gone--

But the odd chilling, ache that clung to his bones was not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was hard to write. I actually had like--- several different starts. 
> 
> That-- and I deleted all my save files because like-- my NG+ data was very iffy for me and screwing me over. I started from scratch and I'm with fear the deer. I miss Dima so freaking much----
> 
> Okay, who's ready for 1170? - Not Beles, that's for sure. 
> 
> Anyway, tell me what you thought!


	9. This Game of Sowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *frantic running*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AaaaaAAAAHHHHHHH thank you for all the support so far?? Really, thank you so much!!
> 
> Alternate chapter summary: 
> 
> Beles doesn’t know how to emotion. 

-1170 Verdant Moon-

._._._._._.

It rained outside, but the atmosphere inside was loud and boisterous. Another job finished, and his mercenary band dragged him along to celebrate. It wasn’t a hard job, but it was never easy to begin with.

Jeralt took a swig of his mead and leaned a casual arm on the bar counter. He hadn’t drunk too much yet. He was expecting someone to show up sometime soon. Byleth was in the inn across the street, far from the alcohol (he was never making that mistake again) - he made sure of that. It was almost funny for his little girl to stare up at him and demand he’d be back before the morning.

They both learned the hard way that Byleth greatly disliked waking up to her father completely hung over. Jeralt never wanted to endure another day of his daughter’s burning gaze - despite the lack of emotion on her face.

He laughed at a joke someone told nearby when someone plopped themselves in the next stool over.

“Give me a pint!” they hollered over the noise. The hostess easily slid one over and the traveler took a long swig. They slammed the pint back on the table, sloshing some of the mead around, and glanced at him.

“You ain’t gonna believe this one bit.”

Jeralt’s smile dimmed a bit.

“Try me.”

The traveler took another gulp and placed their elbow on the table.

“It’s official - The Archbishop’s announced that she finally got a child. A boy.”

Jeralt looked in his nearly empty cup, “Old news, Sparrow. Months old. It was already rumored that Rhea’s adopted a kid long before that announcement.”

The traveler grinned, “Old new, yes -but did you hear about what they said about it?”

Jeralt said nothing as he took a swing of his drink to hide his frown. He had. He heard it from several different places.

“Hah! Okay, so - here’s the gist of it: the Archbishop found this tiny baby a few weeks after the great fire-- that was what - ten years, now? It’s even weirder because like, the kid almost looks like her. Same pale green hair, even the eyes!”

“Sparrow.”

“Uh- right, sorry. Anyway, she’s been raising him ever since and now some people are speculating that he might become the next Archbishop. He’s even started his training as a priest! And he’s like ten.”

Jeralt frowned at his empty cup and called for a refill.

“But! There’s a lot of others saying that the kid won’t be.”

A new cup filled to the brim was handed to him, “Oh?”

“Yeah - turns out that the boy can’t speak - at all.”

Jeralt did his best to hide his frown with a grin as he raised his cup to the cheers of his mercenary. The deep dread in his stomach seemed to get heavier and heavier as Sparrow talked.

“He doesn’t even show any emotions too. He doesn’t even cry when he gets hurt or something. I haven’t even met the kid yet, but from what I hear, he’s a literal terror because he barely makes a sound or show emotions. Almost like—“  
“—Byleth,” Jeralt said. He didn’t half to look at the traveler to know they were nodding.

“Yuuup,” they said, popping the ‘p’, “I even heard that he wears a bell around his neck or something - like a cat, because he’s impossible to find half the time. Imagine that - a little brat running around with a bell. It’s like a target on the boy’s back.”

Sparrow looked at their half-full cup with a huff of laughter, “It’s ridiculous because the boy’s name is—“

Jeralt took a moment to drink from his cup before he cut Sparrow off.

“Beles.”

Sparrow spluttered and finally turned in his stool to Jeralt, eyes wide with surprise, “Oh, come on, Jer-- I gathered all this info to tell you the name and you ruin it?”

Jeralt mustered a grin as he gave Sparrow a pat on the shoulder, “and that, I’m grateful for. Thanks for confirming it for me, Sparrow.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Sparrow huffed. They waved a hand and went back to their drink. they were quiet for two seconds. “But Jeralt— I don’t know why you’re all interested in all this and I won’t pry, but… This all seems a lil’ suspicious, if not odd.”

With another swig of his drink, Jeralt grunted a laugh.

“Yeah, it really seems like it, huh?”

Jeralt gave Sparrow one last pat on the shoulder before slipping out of the bar. He crossed the road in a casual pace, and headed to his daughter.

Byleth told him of the many times she dreamed of a boy with pale green hair and vibrant green eyes. He remembered the nights she startled him awake just to tell him the newest discoveries; like Beles’ name, his dreams, even the games he liked.

Jeralt only had a leaking suspicion before, but now, as he climbed the stairs to the second floor, he was absolutely sure.

Byleth’s Beles was very much alive and real.

He didn’t know if he should be glad or downright terrified.

._._._._._._.

The dirt felt cool in Beles’ hands as he scooped up a handful. It was nice against the hot summer heat. It was a little worse since he was in the greenhouse. Maybe his spot in the far corner wasn’t that great of an idea. He was half tempted to smear it on his arms, but he could already hear Sothis’ voice ringing in his head.

“Bel. No. Don’t you dare. I will not tolerate it!” she would probably say.

Instead of giving in to his urge, he dropped the handful on a steadily growing pile beside him. Why Sothis was so intent on keeping him generally clean was beyond him.

At least, Byleth got the same treatment too. She flat out complained to him while Sothis took a nap.

“She won’t let me climb trees - not that it stopped me. She scolded me for playing to rough with the other kids - it was their rules. She teases me whenever I’m training. Is it the same for you?”

Oh it was definitely the same for him alright.

He lost count how many times Sothis laughed at him when he tripped over his feet. The only mercy he got was when Seteth gave him a significantly shorter practice lance. Apparently, he hadn’t been growing like Byleth. At this point she was taller by an inch.

It’s not his fault his own growth spurt hadn’t come yet.

“Hey, are you trying to bury a dead rat or something?”

Beles blinked.

What.

His hands froze over the deep hole he made as he turned to face the speaker.

A boy stood not too far from him. He had his hands on his hip and a confused frown on his face. His hair was as deep as midnight, but his eyes were both emerald and aquamarine. 

No, wait.

One was aqua. One was emerald… mismatched eyes?

It was so unusual.

Then again, Beles was sure he himself was unusual.

“What are you doing in the corner of the greenhouse?”

Beles glanced at the bag of seeds beside his pile of dirt.

“...That... that just has seeds in it, right...?”

Beles just stared at him.

Of course, it did. Why would it not?

The boy shook his head and plopped himself next to Beles. He reached across and grabbed a handful of dirt. Beles realized what the boy was about to do. He quickly snatched the wrist to stop him.

“Hey! Ow—“

Beles immediately released the boy and sat on his heels. He didn’t mean to hurt him.

The boy rubbed his wrist with an odd smile on his face.

“Wow, for a priest-in-training your grip is kinda strong,” he said. He still dumped the dirt in the hole, “but seriously, if you’re gonna plant something, it’s gotta be shallower than burying a dead animal. Dig in too deep, then it won’t get the sunlight it needs and such.”

Beles watched as his deep hole wasn’t so deep any more. He was confused when the boy held a hand to him palm up.

“Here, hand me the bag,” the boy said, “I’ll show you how to plant them.”

Beles obediently handed over the bag and watched the boy shake a few out.

“See, three or four seeds should be good to drop in here,” the boy explained. The said amount was dropped in and he looked at Beles.

Why was he smiling?

“Now, you bury it.”

Beles looked at his hands, at the hole, the small pile of dirt, then at the boy.

“Are you gonna plant them or what?”

Beles did not scowl, and did as he was told.

With a few light taps on the buried seeds, Beles sat back and looked at the boy. There was a few seconds of silence before the boy’s face dawned in realization.

“Oh! Uhhhh, after that we need to water it. I’ll get the watering can!”

The boy leapt to his feet before Beles could do anything, and returned in just a matter of seconds.

Quite literally, Beles didn’t know what to do when the boy held the watering can to him.

“...You gonna water it?”

Beles nodded and took the can. He poured until the boy hurriedly tipped it up.

“Not that much!”

Apparently, he nearly over watered it.

Well, at least his seeds were planted… not that he remembered what kind of plant it was. Maybe it was a flower?

Beles lowered the can and placed it at his side. They stared at each other for a long moment.

The boy suddenly made himself comfortable next to him and pulled his knees to his chest. 

“You’re Beles, right? The Archbishop’s son?”

‘Son’ wasn’t what he would call himself, but nevertheless, Beles nodded.

“I’m Carrol. It’s spelled with two r’s.”

Without thinking, Beles spelled it out with his soil covered hand, “c-a-r-r-o-l”, then paused.

What a weird name.

Carrol’s jaw dropped before he closed it a second later. His eyes were a bit wide.

“Whoa! Was that my name? Can you do that again?”

Beles was still for a moment. His mind blanked out, but his hand moved anyway. It shook a little, and Beles was... nervous?

“Oohhh, so, that’s how it’s done.” Carrol raised his own hand and attempted to copy Beles’ signs.

Beles’ eye twitched.

He didn’t expect the boy to look a little sheepish. “Sorry. Let me try again.”

Beles nodded his head and patiently showed him again. This time, Carrol actively practiced his own name over and over.

Those oddly mismatched eyes were filled with something Beles couldn’t identify. It was similar to Hanneman when he gets impressed with Beles’ magic, but at the same time - it wasn’t.

“So, this is c-a-r-r-o-l!” The boy suddenly turned to him, “How about your name?”

Beles stared at him for a moment, unsure why or even where this was all coming from. Despite his uneasiness, he slowly signed his name as Carrol parroted it back.

It was so strange to see his name repeated over and over and over again.

He almost wanted to grab that hand just to make it stop.

But he didn’t.

Carrol grinned now. Honestly, Beles stared at him longer than he realized.

“B-e-l-e-s… Beelleess. Caaarrrroool. Carrol, Beles!”

It was so weird to see some random kid look so oddly proud over something as simple as their own names. Beles didn’t know what to name the very warm feeling in his chest. He didn’t know if he liked it or not.

Carrol laughed and finally lowered his hand. He leaned forward a bit and grinned at him.

“That was pretty fun, you know? I don’t know why the other kids said to steer clear of you.”

Beles placed his hands on his knees, thoroughly ruining his cream trousers. He had plenty of reasons why they would. He couldn’t talk to them, for one thing. It was hard to play with them because they had their own duties to attend to - well, that was their excuse. He had his own duties and studies to attend to. Training in magic wasn’t an easy thing to wave aside.

But it was odd.

Why was this one kid not avoiding him?

“You know, you’re kinda famous with us,” Carrol said suddenly. He held up a finger, “For one, you’re the literal son of the Archbishop.”

There was a second finger.

“Second, you’re the youngest priest-in-training to ever exist - so, yeah, some of us are a bit jealous. Ah, not me, but who cares?”

And a third finger.

“Three - you’re so quiet that you’re probably an empty husk!”

Beles almost scowled.

Almost.

Carrol had the nerve to laugh a little nervously, “Sorry, it’s what all the other squires told me, but - I don’t believe them, now that I’ve seen you.”

He suddenly stood up and grabbed Beles’ arms.

Beles was absolutely not ready when the boy pulled him to his feet. He noted that Carrol was taller than him.

Now, that was unfair.

“You’re actually one of the most liveliest people I’ve ever met in my life.”

Beles suddenly wished that Sothis was here. He didn’t know what to do or how to act - he just kind of stared at the other boy in utter loss. 

Carrol released him from his grip and took a few steps back, carefully stepping over Beles’ new plant.

“I’m actually new here - so, I know my fair share of being the odd one out.” He held out a hand with a smile. Those mismatched eyes shined as genuine as Alois’.

“Maybe you and I can be friends?”

Beles stared at the hand, then back to those eyes. His vision seemed to blur and he raised his hand to rub at it.

Carrol grabbed his wrist before it could touch his eyes, “Hey - no! Don’t wipe your face like that! You’ll get dirt in your eye.”

Beles blinked and some of that blurriness cleared up. What he did not expect was Carrol gaping at him.

“Are you—“

Without thinking, Beles yanked his wrists away and turned on his heel. He didn’t dare to pause as he took one, two, three steps before he ran.

“Wha—! Beles, wait!”

Beles did not wait. He didn’t stop when he left the greenhouse. He didn’t stop when he reached the training hall. He didn’t stop when he passed the audience chamber. He only stopped when he stumbled into his room with the door flying open.

The while owl sitting at his windowsill was startled. She fluttered her wings and hooted at him. It was almost as if she was more concerned than shocked to see him. Beles slammed his door shut and leaned against it.

He didn’t realize that his breaths came in ragged gulps and his chest heaved up and down. He was just aware of his white owl fluttering over to him. She hadn’t grown too much, maybe twice her since he first found her. He hadn’t even named her, and yet she stayed intently at his side.

Beles slid to the floor and pressed a hand to his chest. Quiet literally, his mind was in a whirlwind of confusion.

Friends?

Some random kid he just met wanted to be _friends?_

What did that even mean??

Beles made an odd noise in the back of his throat. It sounded high and utterly lost.

A small hoot drew his attention from his chaotic thoughts. The owl was perched on his knee. She chirped at him and hopped her way a little closer. His free hand smeared dried dirt in her feathers, but the owl didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she nuzzled closer to his touch.

The pain in his chest slowly ebbed away, and it was easier to breathe.

Beles kept petting his owl as he closed his eyes and leaned back. His head thumped the door lightly, and he finally realized what to call the rush that made him run.

Why was he so scared?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeralt's totally aware now, and Beles literally cannot emotion-- but he'll learn. 
> 
> Please forgive the sudden addition of OCs (I made them up just for this). I realized that the monastery is extremely limited in characters that is Beles' age. Beles needs other characters and Carrol (because bells and-- yeah never mind) plays such a giant arse role in Beles' life for story reasons, so gods, I really, really, REALLY hope it doesn't chase you away. If it does, I apologize. If it doesn't, hold on - because this story is really gonna fly now. 
> 
> Anyway, tell me what you thought!


	10. This Game of Tripping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *step step scuffle thud*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm like kinda iffy about this chapter, but it's almost a leading chapter - ish. 
> 
> Bare with me! and thanks~

-1170 Wyvern Moon-

._._._._._.

_“How long are you supposed to stand here?”_

Beles peeked through a narrowed eye. His head was bowed and his hands were clasped in a prayer - obviously he wasn’t finished with his morning routine at the Cathedral.

He didn’t dare to move as he closed his eye. There was a huff.

_“Fine. I’ll let you be.”_

He didn’t believe her for a second.

_“Beles, that child has been watching you since you began.”_

Beles did his absolute best not to move from his spot.

_“Hm? His eyes are strange. I wonder what made them that way.”_

If Beles knew how to curse, he probably would’ve.

_“He must be waiting for you. Did something happen while I was away?”_

Nothing. Nothing happened, Beles wanted to tell her.

_“Come now, I would not tease you for making a friend.”_

Friend.

He still didn’t know what that meant.

Beles tuned her out the best he could. He really wanted to finish his morning prayers before dealing with anything else.

That included Sothis.

When he finally finished, he dropped his hands and turned to leave. What he didn’t expect was the mismatched eyes that caught his own.

_“Hm? Beles, we must move if you want anything done today.”_

Beles glanced away from the green and blue and turned the opposite direction. There were more ways to exit the Cathedral.

But then he remembered the massive bridge.

There was only one way to get back to the monastery.

_“Honestly, you aren’t afraid of a child that is your age, are you?”_

He was not.

_“Byleth would’ve terrorized them with her own game already.”_

Of course she would. She was a literal force to be reckoned with. Beles knew it first hand.

Byleth flipped him on his back when he caught her off guard in their little world. He never wanted to do that again.

Beles took a tiny breath and slowly exhaled. He certainly didn’t have the time to fret pointlessly. Resolutely, he took a step toward Carrol.

No, he did not frown when he saw the other boy light up like a daisy in the sun. It was so strange.

“Hey, Beles!” Carrol greeted with a happy wave.

_“Oh? How cheery he is in the morning. You could learn a thing or two from him.”_

Beles did not subtly turn to give her a flat gaze. He did not.

“Did you eat yet?” Carrol plowed on as he placed his hands on his hip, “I haven’t! We should go to the dining hall together.”

Beles raised his hand to refuse, but he couldn’t.

Instead, his hand was hijacked by the boy and Beles quickly found himself being half-dragged, half-escorted across the giant bridge.

He absolutely ignored the way that Sothis giggled behind him the whole way.

“I heard that they were serving pastries today! I hope there’s apple strudels or blueberry—“

More than half the things that sprouted from Carrol’s mouth left Beles struggling to keep up, both physically and mentally.

How could the other boy be so energetic at this hour??

They only stopped when Beles accidentally (if not purposely) tripped over his own feet and literally face planted the ground. Carrol cried out when he was suddenly pulled to the ground. The grip he had on Beles was pretty tight.

_“Ohhh, you did that on purpose, didn’t you.”_

He could definitely hear the amusement in her voice. Beles frowned a little deeper at the stray rocks that dug in his palms and knees, but he did not cry out, only huffing a bit to catch his breath. He didn’t know when it started, but it had gotten harder to breathe recently. Maybe it had something to do with the odd aches in his body.

Nevertheless, he sat up as he always did, and didn’t dare to deny Sothis’ statement (he knew it wasn’t a question).

_“That was not nice, Bel,”_ Sothis scolded. She crossed her arms and stayed in his direct line of sight, _“You could have badly injured the other boy—“_

Carrol, on the other hand, didn’t get up. He was loudly hissing as he rubbed the back of his head and laid on the ground. He peered up at Beles, who only stared at him with his blank face, and broke into a grin.

“Hey! You look okay,” he said. He took a moment longer on the ground before he sat up. Beles watched the boy stand and dust himself off. “I must’ve been going to fast, huh? Sorry about that! I just don’t you to miss out on the pastries.”

Beles stared at him.

What?

“I mean, I heard you like sweets from the chef, so I couldn’t pass this up.”

Carrol held no reservations as he reached down to grab Beles’ hands to pull him to his feet. He even dusted off Beles’ clothes and face.

“There we go! I’ll go slower this time,” he said as he held a hand and nodded.

Beles didn’t move his feet when Carrol tugged him. He glanced at a random direction, effectively causing the other boy turn his head to look. He took the opportunity to slip his hand out of his grip, and touch the back of Carrol’s head.

“Ow!”

Beles felt it.

Wow, that was a sizable bump. He would apologize (as Sothis gave him a very, very pointed look), but he didn’t think Carrol would understand at all.

_“Maybe you may not be able to apologize yet, but you have your own way of doing so, yes?”_

Sothis was right. He did have his own way of doing this.

Beles didn’t have to close his eyes to concentrate as he cast a simple heal. He didn’t move his hand until he felt the bump ease away. He nodded to himself and dropped his arm.

Carrol stared at him with wide eyes.

He stared back.

“Why...” Beles waited patiently for the other boy to finish, but Carrol shook his head with his bright smile, “I mean - Thanks! You didn’t have to— I can handle a lot of pain.”

Yeah, okay, sure. Beles won’t heal him if he gets hurt again.

Sothis huffed, “With all that laying on the ground, it didn’t seem like it.”

“But, wow! I feel completely energized,” Carrol said. He hopped in place and waved his arms to emphasize his point, “You’re really amazing!”

Beles didn’t know how to take that, so he just shrugged and stepped around him.

Carrol did say that there were pastries waiting at the dining hall.

The said boy spluttered for a second, “wait for me!”

._._._._._.

When she first heard about Beles’ new friend, she heard it from Sothis.

Byleth was not jealous. At least, she hoped she wasn’t.

This Carrol seemed like a decent kid, according to Sothis. Apparently, he had been actively hanging out with Beles that their guardian found it highly amusing.

But…

Beles seemed rather distressed about the whole thing instead of happy about it.

_“He is like a needle I cannot remove.”_

His hands moved slowly enough for Byleth to easily read them as she lazily walked back and forth.

“Why a needle?” she asked him. She did a little twirl to keep herself from getting too bored. She wanted to play again, but Sothis was asleep, and Beles barely moved from the step he rooted himself on. She noticed how oddly exhausted he was; especially with the way he breathed a little heavier than usual.

_“He keeps saying nice things. It is strange.”_

Byleth snorted, “Really? I say nice things to you.”

_“I know you.”_

She stopped her little lazy pace in front of the steps to look at Beles. It was very subtle, but she could tell that he pouted with the little jut of his bottom lip. It was almost funny to watch him drop his shoulders.

Oh, he was definitely frowning now.

“Then why don’t you know him?” Byleth asked him. He blinked at her, a high sign that he didn’t understand her. She continued, “Maybe that will help you get used to it.”

_“Does it work for you?”_

Byleth stared at him.

She didn’t know how to answer.

The floor beneath her feet grew cold and she could already feel the familiar pull of waking up. She settled with a shrug and a flat stare.

“I don’t know. I don’t have friends like you.”

._._._._._.

Byleth found that she liked swords a lot. She hoped that this year her dad will give her a dagger, or a short sword for her birthday. She had been diligently practicing all the moves Jeralt had her practice. Well, maybe she had practiced a bit too much to accidentally hit some other kid by utter accident.

To be fair, it was the other boy’s fault for running so fast.

“Come on, Yura! Don’t let her beat you!”

The cheers around her weren’t at all for Byleth, but she didn’t care. She could honestly imagine Sothis cheering her on instead - maybe even Beles in his own little way.

Byleth did not smirk, but she straightened her stance. The wooden sword in her hand was crudely made by the other kids, and awfully off balanced. As much as she wanted to use her own (it stayed strapped to her waist), she knew the other kids would probably hate her or something.

She had only been in this town for two hours, and she already got in a fight.

Again.

It hadn’t even been a moon since her last one.

It was all for some dumb reason, too. She already apologized, but the older sister wouldn’t let it go by saying that she did it on purpose - which led to some other kid stepping up to challenge Byleth. After Byleth kicked his arse, the other kids jumped to the challenge.

Jeralt should’ve just brought her along for that new job.

Her opponent was the older sister of the boy she hit. Clearly, she was still upset with that. She seemed about Byleth’s age, maybe a year older give or take. She held her own wooden sword in a horrible grip - way too tight to do anything with both hands. She got into a strange stance, no actually, it was just a very amateur stance - and she rushed at Byleth with a cry.

Byleth didn’t move until the last second, easily dodging the tip of the wood with a simple twirl to the side. She ended up behind the girl and she whacked her from behind. The girl stumbled forward with a curse and crashed to the ground.

The cheering stopped, only to be replaced with groans of disappointment or something along those lines. She didn’t sigh as she turned her gaze to the other kids that surrounded them.

She tilted her head to the side with the flattest look on her face, “Next.”

“Not fair! You’re not supposed to dodge like that!” said another boy. While Byleth would love to go for another round, she knew she would get bored quickly. She had already faced half of these kids. They weren’t a challenge at all.

Still, despite the accusations, no one stepped up. Apparently, they learned their lesson.

“Ugh, let’s just give it up, guys - She ain’t gonna budge,” came a voice behind her. Byleth turned to see the girl dusting herself off with a scowl on her face.

“I did say that I was sorry,” Byleth said for the umpteenth time. The girl just waved her hand and placed a hand on her hip.

“Right. Like I can believe you with that look on your face,” she snapped. Byleth decided that she had enough.

She dropped her borrowed wooden sword, turned on her heel and walked in a random direction. The other kids quickly parted out of her way to let her leave.

“Hey, wait!” cried someone.

“Let her go - she obviously doesn’t care.”

Well, someone was sore about losing to her. 

Byleth did her best not to turn around. If that was what they thought of her, then fine. She had Jeralt to wait for, and Sothis to scold her.

She had Beles.

She had Beles to be her friend.

And he was all she needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaahhhhh Byleth, let me forever hug you and give you a plushie. 
> 
> I should have saved this entire fanfic for Nanowrimo, but this is fine. I probably would've stopped after the ninth day, anyway. 
> 
> This chapter was shorter than others, but tell me what you thought!


	11. This Game of Reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *slash slash thud*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hnng, I greatly apologize for this chapter, but it's.... unfortunately needed. Desperately needed. 
> 
> Warning: Blood that is often, if not mostly, vaguely described. And barely any Beles. Oh and a curse. I never did say that this fic was for kids, did I?
> 
> Also, lol, ocs everywhere yet nowhere at all.

-1170 Harpstring Moon-

._._._._._.

“Stephen,” Jeralt greeted. His technically second-in-command (well, the man jumped in and handled things when Jeralt had to be a dad or took on small jobs) hummed from his spot on top of a crate beside the stables. Clearly, the beige haired man patiently waited from him to show up. Stephen didn’t look up from the wood he carved in his hand.

“Ah, welcome back, Jer,” he greeted back as he dusted off the top of it. It was a pretty flower, Jeralt noted. “How was your little job with that one noble a town or so over?”

“It paid enough,” Jeralt said as he leaned against a wall next to him, “How’s the gang?”

Stephen hummed as he shaved a corner, “Hmmmm, lil’ antsy if you ask me. Don’t get me wrong, Jer, but we’ve been here for a while now. Remire village is nice and all, but I think we took enough time from that last job we had. Don’t you think it’s time for a new one?”

Jeralt said nothing to that. Stephen bothered to look at him and pointed his carving knife at him, “That, and your girl’s getting really teased out there. I offered to train her while you were out, but you know what she said?”

He suddenly straightened up and gave Jeralt the flattest face he could possibly manage, “‘You are not my dad.’”

Jeralt cracked a smile at that. He did expect his little girl to be that way. She had a very simple focus. Honestly, Jeralt wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing. He didn’t know the first thing about raising a kid, but Byleth was never a normal one to begin with.

“Seriously, I’ve never met a kid that deadpans like her. Wish my sibs could meet her; they’d really join her bandwagon of one-hit liners,” Stephen ranted. He twirled the wooden carving in his hand with a wary grin, “Your girl’s a very serious one.”

“She certainly is,” Jeralt agreed.

“Anyway, there’s a bit of a bandit situation not far from here. Remire village isn’t equipped to handle that. We should take care of it before we go.”

“There’s no gold from doing that, Steph.”

When Jeralt looked at him, Stephen had already went back to his little flower carving. Honestly, Jeralt half wished the man hadn’t joined his mercenary band. At the heart of it, Stephen was a craftsman, a diligent and resilient man. A boy that matured in months and had seen far too many battles to earn gold to debts that were never his.

Stephen shrugged, “We always come back here, Jer. It wouldn’t be right if we just left them to be attacked.”

Jeralt nodded, “Alright. There’s some gold—“

“Nah, Jer,” Stephen interrupted as he waved a hand in the air, “Keep it. I can handle my own problems.”

Jeralt wanted to frown, but the smile on his second-in-command’s face was infectious. He sighed and shook his head with a small grin of his own, “Alright, if you say so. Where’s the rest of the gang?”

“I’ll tell them,” Stephen said as he jumped off the crate. He really didn’t look his age with that endless energy he had. “You need to see your daughter first.”

“Thanks, Steph.”

“Yeah, yeah - save it for when it’s really needed, Jer!”

._._._._._.

In the early morning, before her father left with his mercenary band, Byleth met them outside of the inn. She clung to the edge of Jeralt’s shirt and stared right at him with her blank eyes.

“Take me with you.”

Jeralt stared down at her with slightly wide eyes. She stared right back.

They stood there for quite sometime as the mercenaries watched from a good distance. They knew at this point to let Jeralt handle it.

Byleth could tell that her father was assessing her. She was pretty sure Jeralt thought back to that one incident where she followed them from a distance, and fell out of tree by accident that day. That was a foolish mistake she wouldn’t do again. Hence why she asked him directly instead of following at a distance.

It was an added plus that she knew her way around a sword - well, the wooden one. She just got her own iron sword for her birthday a few days ago. It was strapped to her own belt already, and she had gotten used to the weight at her side. So, if anything were to happen, she would be fine.

Jeralt sighed and suddenly looked a little older than before. He turned his to his the closest mercenary by him, “Stephen— once the fighting starts, you’ll hang in the back with my kid. Got that?”

Byleth was amazed that the mercenary could splutter and snort in one sound. Stephen rubbed his nose and glanced at her with a nod, “Yeah, sure, Jer. But, ah, you sure about that? She’s still a tiny one.”

Oh Byleth did narrow her gaze at him.

“That’s exactly why she’s staying with you,” Jeralt huffed, and Stephen looked highly offended if the look on his face was anything to go by. Jeralt turned to Byleth and gave her a brief pat on her head, “You got that, By?”

“Yes, Jeralt.”

Jeralt looked at her for a moment longer before he turned to his mercenary band, “Alright, let’s get this over with!”

._._._._._._.

When the battle started, Byleth did stay in the back with Stephen. The older man definitely kept her out of harms way, and completely out of sight with a convenient bush, but she watched him in slight awe. The way he danced with two different blades in his hands was vastly different from others she had seen. No matter what he did, he swung with certainty. Not a single movement was wasted.

She could tell that he had trained with her father so many times in the past. He quickly parried any lances and dove in for the kill.

It burned into her memory. How he would strike with a sword, then follow up with the shorter one. How he bent his body to swiftly dodge and retaliate. She watched as the blood spilled on the ground and she wasn’t fazed. She had seen it before.

Faintly, she noticed that it probably wasn’t a good thing to be used to.

“Shit!”

Stephen’s sudden curse broke her from her reverie. A bandit with an axe stepped up to the mercenary, whose blades was locked in a stale mate with his enemy. His axe was high in the air and Byleth knew that Stephen couldn’t dodge.

Byleth burst out of the bushes and her sword rang as she drew it.

The bandit’s back was completely unprotected and Byleth swung in an arc. Her sword sang its sweet song, as it cut the air and sank into her target. There were different shouts from various directions, and Byleth could only pick out the pained grunt of Stephen.She looked up, only to see a bandit swing their sword at her.

A quick, yet faint thought crossed her mind. Why was it Stephen’s enemy?

With a quick blink, Byleth didn’t dare to hesitate.

She was small and a child.

Everyone always underestimated a child.

With a tight grip of her sword in one hand, she rolled out of the way of the sword coming at her. She ignored the way the grass poked her arms, rubbed against her elbows, and how the ground was still soft from the recent rain a few days ago. She partially straightened herself the moment her feet landed on the ground, and shot forward. Her sword slipped passed the armor they wore and sunk deeply. The guttural cry they made didn’t make her flinch.

It was almost as if time had stopped, and for a moment, Byleth could swear she hear the sounds of the war in the back of her head.

Her enemy towered over her, completely haunched over in pain. Their fists clenched and unclenched, as if they wanted to grab her and choke her, but they couldn’t lift them higher than her shoulder. She quietly stepped back and took her blade with her.

The body fell with a heavy thud and a pained gurgle.

Red painted around her, soaking into the ground.

She eyes trailed another set of red not far from her. From the bandit’s sword to the red of Stephen’s neck. The other bandit’s axe to Stephen’s back.

Byleth didn’t scream, didn’t gasp.

Instead, her feet moved on her own. They carried her to the downed mercenary, and she fell to her knees. Her sword dropped at her side and her hands hovered over the man before she pulled away.

This was all her fault.

She barely knew Stephen much, but her father had always trusted him. She knew he often came to check on her; fed her and put her to bed when Jeralt wasn’t around for a few days at a time. He offered to train her a few times, but she never took it up.

Maybe she should’ve taken that offer.

“Byleth…?” The voice was airy and weak. She stared into the hazel eyes of the dying man in front of her. He wore a quivering smile and shakily lifted a hand to smear away the blood that landed on her face. “‘m sor-ry— Wasn’t strong—enough.”

Byleth said nothing, but she held the hand to her face. His hand was warm.

Just like Beles, just like Jeralt.

“I couldn’t— protect you.”

“You did,” Byleth said suddenly, “You did, you did, you did.”

Stephen’s smile shook a little more, “No, I— I couldn’t— protect you— from this. I’m sorry.”

It was only when he glanced at the downed bandits did she understand his meaning. She did frown when she looked down. Stephen couldn’t protect her from taking matters in her own hands.

…But wasn’t that what she, as a mercenary-to-be, had to do? What she asked her father to teach her so she could be by her father’s side? Because she was scared from the possibility of never reuniting with her father after days of being separated?

“Hey—hey— By—” he called to her as his voice cracked and blood trailed from the edge of his lips. Byleth tore her own gaze from her sword and looked at him. His hazel eyes carried a sadness deeper than what she could understand. “You drew— your sword for— a reason. Was… was it hea-vy?”

She glanced at her sword.

It wasn’t, she wanted to say, but her mouth moved before she noticed, “Yes.”

Stephen’s fading voice drew her back to him, “Don’t ever forget… that _this _weight…is the choice you_…_”

Byleth only held his hand a little harder as the words died from his throat, and the words on his lips still moved.

She read them easily.

_“— decide to carry or not.”_

Byleth closed her eyes when she felt the hand in her grip grow limp.

She ignored how her clothes began to feel damp, how her throat closed up, and how her eyes stung. She didn’t understand what Stephen said, but it burned and burned and burned into her memory. What did he mean by weight? By choice? Her sword?

Her mind didn’t understand it, but somewhere, she already felt what it meant. She was almost afraid to pick up her sword.

Byleth didn’t move from her place until she heard her name.

“Byleth!!”

She finally opened her eyes again to see Jeralt kneeling at her side with a deep frown on his face. It was different from the other frowns.

“Byleth…” Jeralt began, but Byleth cut him off.

“He protected me, but not himself.”

She slowly stood up and picked up her sword. Byleth stared at it.

Why did it feel so heavy?

“Byleth.” Jeralt’s firm, but gentle voice pulled her attention back to him. His eyes held the same sadness as Stephen’s.

“I’ll be…” Byleth stopped, unsure to lie or not. As she gripped her sword a little tighter in her hands, she straightened her back, “I’ll be okay.”

“Byleth, I can see it in your eyes. You’re not okay.”

Jeralt held her arms gently in his hands. “What happened?”

Byleth stared at him for a moment before her lips spilled the entire story; of how Stephen moved, how he was certain, of how she didn’t see him fall. She muttered about how her felt her sword cut into her enemies, how warm blood felt on her skin. She told him of Stephen’s last words.

Her father ran a hand through her hair as she spoke.

“Why,” she asked him as she finished, “why did he say that?”

Jeralt took a moment to close the sightless eyes of Stephen’s and gathered her in his arms. Byleth half hugged him with an arm as her other still clung to her sword. She buried her face in the crook of her father’s neck. She felt his throat rumble as he spoke.

“It’s something I told him a long time ago,” Jeralt began, “When you fight someone, they have their own reasons for fighting. Knights, bandits, mercenaries like me and Steph… Sometimes, your enemy won’t let you get away without a scratch. It’s times like those you have to kill before you get killed.”

Jeralt never stopped rubbing her back.

“Taking a life… is a heavy burden. And we can choose whether to let it weigh us down, or not. But that doesn’t mean to forget about them. Fights like these have two sides, and nothing but violence. Sometimes one wins, or both dies for reasons they fight for. Stephen had his reasons, and he was prepared to die for it. That is the cost for everyone.”

Byleth was silent. Jeralt never spoke for this long.

“I…” Byleth began as her grip on her sword loosened. Her father rested his hand on her own, gently helping her hold it in place.

“It’s a lot to think about, By. But never forget, you have your own reasons to fight. Just like I have mine.”

Byleth finally lifted her head from his shoulder. She stared into his eyes and he stared right back. She thought about his words, and oddly enough she thought of Jeralt.

She thought of Sothis.

She thought of Beles.

The sword still felt heavy, but she nodded to herself, “I… I have my own reasons.”

Jeralt gave her a light kiss to her face before holding her close. Byleth did not cry as her father began to walk away from the battle grounds. Faintly, she heard him mutter so quietly.

“Thanks… Steph.”

Maybe….

Just maybe she shouldn’t have asked to join today.

._._._._._.

“I killed someone today.”

Byleth said it so bluntly that the look that Beles gave her almost made her want to take it back. His eyes were wide, and his mouth dropped a bit. He reached over to hold her arm. He eyed her up and down, as if to search for something.

“I’m not hurt.”

He frowned. Byleth silently wished that Sothis was awake. Their guardian wasn’t that good at reading Beles’ emotions, but she was very vocal about it. Right now, it was hard to tell what Beles thought.

"The bandits killed someone I knew." 

Byleth blinked at her own words. She didn't mean to say that, but she kept going.

"I... couldn't save him. I wanted to. That's why I killed the bandits. I took their lives to save his. Why did he have to die?"

Beles moved his hand to her head, holding her face. When Byleth blinked, she suddenly saw Stephen.

It almost startled her.

She reached up and grabbed his hand into her own. Beles made a small noise at her grip, but she didn’t care. Instead, she forced the image of Stephen out of her head and looked right into those vibrant green eyes.

“Beles—” Her voice shook. She remembered the blood that split at the edge of lips. She remembered the blood that soaked the ground. She remembered the shuddering voice of Stephen’s.

“Don’t leave me.”

She said it so firmly. The confusion that showed in Beles’ face didn’t make any sense to her, but she had to say it.

“Don’t leave me.”

She remembered the guttural cries of those bandits. How they yelled as they killed someone she knew. How they fell from her blade.

“Don’t leave me.”

It burned, and burned, and burned into her memory.

“Don’t lea-ve me.”

Beles stared at her a little longer, and leaned closer, resting his forehead against his. He took in a breath and moved his lips, his voice cracking in every place.

“I won’t.”

And just like that, the heavy weight that pulled her down lifted by a little. When she looked into Beles’ eyes, she knew where some of that weight went.

Stephen’s words came haunting her back.

_“Don’t forget that this weight is the choice you decide to carry or not.”_

She never thought she could feel so guilty before.

She never meant to through half of it on him. He didn’t deserve this at all.

Jeralt’s words gently whispered in her ears, _“Never forget, you have your own reasons to fight. Just like I have mine.”_

Byleth breathed and covered Beles’ hands with her own, “Don’t ever leave me, Beles.”

The edge of Beles’ lips twitched and stretched to a soft, gentle smile.

“I won’t leave you, Byleth.”

She never thought she could feel so assured before.

And Byleth was fine with that.

._._._._._._.

“Hey, you! Fight me!”

Byleth closed her eyes for a long moment before she turned her flat gaze at the girl before her. Sothis gazed curiously at the other girl with a lazy hand on her chin.

“Hey, isn’t this the girl you told me about? The one you basically beat to the ground?” Sothis asked. Byleth deliberately ignored her to avoid being judged by the other girl in front of her. She pushed her to the ground, not beat. There was a difference.

“No.”

“Coward!” the girl responded immediately. Byleth didn’t roll her eyes as she began to walk away.

“W-wait! Hold on!” A hand that gripped at her wrist forced Byleth to stop in place.

“Let me go,” Byleth demanded. The girl scowled.

“Ugh, no! I will not!” she snapped. Her grey eyes were unusually sharp as she stared right into Byleth’s. The girl glared at her for a moment longer, before she looked away. “I heard about what happened the other day.”

Byleth did not frown.

“And, I heard you were leaving tomorrow, and I…” the girl trailed off, unsure how to continue. Byleth closed her eyes for a moment to collect herself.

“Breathe, Byleth, breathe,” Sothis gently reminded her.

So, she did.

The girl finally let her go and crossed her arms, “I just… wanted to say I’m sorry. For that mercenary, and—”

“His name was Stephen,” Byleth nearly bit out. She vaguely felt Sothis place a hand on her shoulder. It was grounding enough to remind Byleth to stay calm. The memory was still fresh in her mind.

The girl frowned guiltily.

“Stephen,” she echoed, “I’m sorry about what happened.”

Byleth slowly blinked, “If… that’s all you really wanted to say, then why?”

“What?”

“Why did you challenge me to fight you?” Byleth clarified.

The girl faltered, “…I… I just didn’t know how to approach you.”

Byleth did not frown.

“I see.” She turned around again. Jeralt was waiting for her to come back from her walk around town. She intended to use the time to ease her nerves, but it only made her restless. She wasn’t ready to travel to Stephen’s hometown to return him home in ashes. It was…. a painful thought.

“W-wait!”

Byleth didn’t stop, but the girl ran in front of her with her arms spread out.

“Huh, she’s almost as persistent as that Carrol boy,” Sothis observed. Byleth wanted to huff at the absurdity of that statement. There was no way this girl was the same way.

“I’m sorry!” the girl yelled, “I’m sorry I accused you for hurting my brother! I’m sorry I said you didn’t care! I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused you!”

Byleth was startled at the outburst, and it only showed by the fraction of her eyes being wider than usual.

There was an awkward silence that filled the space between them. Well, that was until the girl stuttered.

“In… I-in a way… I blame myself for what happened the other day, and I shouldn’t have pushed you away.” She dropped her hands to her side. “If… I had been nicer to you, you would’ve stayed, here with us.”

Byleth clenched her fist, “That doesn’t change anything. I still wanted to go.”

“Byleth…” Sothis touched the ground to stand next to her, “Do not blame yourself. It was never your fault to begin with.”

The girl looked at Byleth with pressed lips. It didn’t seem like she had anything else to say, so Byleth resumed her walk. Sothis stayed beside her, but her feet made no noise.

Of course it didn’t. Byleth was the only one who could see her.

She only passed her by a few steps before the girl called out to her again.

“Hey!”

Byleth stopped for the umpteenth time, but didn’t turn around. Annoyance snapped at her. When will this girl just leave her alone? She was already frustrated with herself.

“Byleth,” the girl said firmly behind her, “That’s your name, right?”

She didn’t say anything. 

“When you come back again, let me make it up to you.”

“For what?” Byleth asked, dead and uncaring.

The answer came immediately, “To set things right between us. Will you let me?”

Both Sothis and Byleth looked back. They could see how serious the girl was: her back straight, and her eyes oddly determined.

Byleth leveled her with a stare, “If I come back.”

With that, she turned on her heel and finally made her way to the inn. If she looked back once more, she would’ve noticed Sothis smiling a little.

“Honestly,” her guardian huffed behind her, “What am I going to do with you, Byleth?”

Byleth could hear the amusement in her voice, and just faintly, a smile tugged on her lips, too. Her chest felt a little lighter, her steps were relieved, and she knew—

Despite the burning memory of her sword tearing into her enemies and the pale face that stared back at her--

Everything will be alright.

She had Jeralt to follow.

She had Sothis to watch her.

She had Beles to watch over.

And maybe she had someone here, too, waiting for her to come back - safe and sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Byleth I'm so sorry please let me hug you endlessly and I apologize for putting you through so much PAIN without you realizing it just to gain a kinda sorta friend (yes the girl has a name already but like, Byleth didn't remember it. Why would she?) But now our baby girl has a lot of things to remember, and that's a very good thing. 
> 
> ahem. I actually wrote this chapter over three times and each time Stephen was alive, but like... it didn't fit. At all. So the fourth time was... well. Ya just read it. Stephen dying was... easier to write. I meant (actually really, really wanted it) for him to be a supportive character but like it happened - just not the way I expected. 
> 
> Well, a-anyway, tell me what you thought! (or scream at me, either one works-- ahahahahaha.........) 
> 
> Up next, Beles and his bell.


	12. This Game of Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *munch munch siiiiip*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who got a beta reader???? 
> 
> Yeah, me. Seriously, this chapter was literally possible thanks to KINGBeerZ helping me write and being my beta reader! 
> 
> My only warning is sweets.

-1170 Ethereal Moon-

._._._._._._.

There were a lot of rumors circulating around the monastery. Seteth wasn’t sure what to make of them as they were a bit… outlandish to begin with. Beles was certainly not a little monster that wreaked havoc everywhere he went. He was a very mild, quiet and small child - albeit difficult to keep track of. Seteth often noticed how he relied on that bell of Beles’.

He also noticed how often he caught himself waiting to hear that bell ringing in the distance.

He didn’t really have a routine with the boy anymore - even more so recently.

Instead, Beles had developed a routine of his own. He was usually up by the time Seteth would knock on his door - drowsy, but always ready for the morning prayers. Then afterwards, the boy would disappear for a couple of hours, and reappear in time for his lessons.

As far as Seteth was aware, Beles didn’t have friends. It was a sad thought, knowing that the boy’s status as the Archbishop’s son was the biggest factor, but recently Seteth had been hearing things through the grapevine.

Apparently, there was another boy that tended to seek out Beles. From what he learned, the boy was certainly a ball of energy, and Seteth wasn’t all that sure Beles would be alright.

After all, Beles was a quiet child who preferred to nap immediately after his afternoon classes.

In all honesty, Seteth knew he shouldn’t be upset. He should be proud that Beles seemed to have a friend, but the conversation he had a few days ago left him worried.

_“What is a friend?” _

_Seteth felt his heart sink and flutter at the same time. His little Beles was finally growing up…!_

_“Well, the definition may not be the same for everyone, but a friend, Beles, is a person who cares for you, just as you care for them. You know each other well, and enjoy each other’s company.” _

_Beles tilted his head, “But I do not get it. Are they supposed to be nearby?” _

_“Not all the time, but you see or think of them often,” Seteth trailed off, “why do you ask, Bel?” _

_The boy’s hands were stiff yet annoyed at the same time, “I have a Carrol following me.” _

_Seteth was stumped enough to do a double take, “A what? A song?” _

_Beles’ face was so flat as his hands were so sure, “No. A Carrol.” _

Seteth had no idea what Beles meant by “carrol” at the time. But when he did, he was absolutely shocked.

The first sign was the loud sound of Beles’ bell in the distance. Seteth stopped his little walk near the dining hall and waited to see the said boy chasing after a cat or something. He did not expect to see a dark haired child practically dragging little Beles across the courtyards.

He had no idea what the boy talked about, but the way Beles struggled to keep up with him made Seteth see a red for a second. Immediately, Seteth’s face hardened and he quickly strode over. There was absolutely no warning when he grabbed the back of the boy’s tunic and lifted him up. The wide, mismatched eyes had surprised him at first, but ignored it in favor of getting answers.

“H-h-hey! Put me dow—ooooh— Hi!”

Seteth leveled the boy with a look, “And just _what_ are you doing, boy?”

He glanced over to Beles to see the sweet boy huffing a bit on his knees, yet he seemed generally fine, so Seteth turned back to the one in his grip.

“Huh? I was just headin’ to the greenhouse with Bel here!” the boy cheerfully answered. It was almost hilarious to see the boy smile so brightly despite being held in the air by the Archbishop’s second in command.

Seteth eyed the boy. The midnight hair was unkept, and grew past his shoulders. It was odd to stare at a pair of eyes with different colors - far too young for a case of heterochromia trauma (although, Seteth wouldn’t be that surprised if it were. The world wasn’t that kind, even within the monastery walls). The boy was dressed similar to a squire of a knight, but he seemed more of a servant or stable boy with his winter coat tattered at the ends. Clearly, this boy needed something better to wear.

“Oh, is that so?” Seteth said as he turned to Beles for confirmation. Beles looked at him, then to the boy, and back again. He gave a small nod.

Seteth almost did a double take.

Almost.

“Yup!” the boy said, waving a hand, “Bel and I are friends!”

The blank, unresponsive look on Beles’ face said otherwise.

Seteth narrowed his eyes and spoke with a voice full of suspicion, “I see you claim to be Beles’ ‘friend’, but how am I to know your intentions are pure? He is a sweet boy and I would not be pleased if you were to use him. The goddess frowns on such deceptions.”

The boy in the air laughed and placed his hands on his hip, “I’d never do that! Bel is pretty amazing really - I don’t get why none of the other kids don’t want to be with him. They’re missing out.”

The blatant praise that spilled from the boy’s lips did cause a small reaction from Beles. Seteth almost missed the slight drop of Beles’ jaw.

Clearly, this boy viewed himself as a friend, but it probably wasn’t the same for Beles.

At least, not yet.

With that thought in mind, Seteth placed the boy back to the ground, “Tell me, boy, what is your name?”

The boy grinned as he stepped right next to Beles, “I’m Carrol!”

Realization finally dawned on Seteth, “Ahh, that Carrol.”

Beles only nodded firmly.

“Yes! _That_ Carrol— whatever that means. Who are yo—” Carrol cut himself off in mid word, and his jaw dropped. “Oh.” 

“Yes. Hello to you, too,” Seteth confirmed with his hands behind his back.

Carrol rubbed the back of his head with an apologetic smile, “Ahhhahahaha— Sorry about that, Seteth, sir! We just really wanted to check on our plant, and I guess I got a bit excited.” He turned to Beles with a slight bow of his head, “You okay?”

There was a pause as Beles stared for a second or two before nodding his head. 

Carrol grinned, “Great!”

Seteth regarded them both as the boy chatted with Beles for a moment. He could clearly see that this Carrol had no bad intentions. If anything, it seemed like the boy genuinely cared with the way he offered to give Beles some of his candy later.

A noble sacrifice of a child, if Seteth remembered correctly.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when he felt a tug at his tunic. Seteth looked down to see Beles raising his hands for him to see.

_“I am okay. I will see you later.” _

Seteth wasn’t able to say anything when Beles dropped his hands and grabbed Carrol’s elbow. 

“Huh? Bel— uh, it was nice to meet you Seteth, sir!” Carrol scrambled to say as the other boy practically pulled him toward the greenhouse. Seteth stood in the middle of the courtyard with his jaw nearly hitting the floor.

They were almost out of sight when he managed to gather himself and wave after them. Slowly, a smile pulled his face and Seteth gave an amused huff, “Our little Bel is growing up.”

._._._._._._.

If there was one thing that Beles knew he liked, it was doing little light shows. The magic at the tip of Beles’ fingers exploded beautifully in the air. The way the little colored sparks shimmered in light and fizzed out of sight put a bright smile on Hanneman’s face.

“Incredible! Simply marvelous, little Bel!” he applauded. Beles dropped his hands and gave a short nod in silent thanks. Hanneman took a hand out of his pocket and gave Beles a honey ginger candy, “That’s an amazing little trick you showed me. How long have you known how to do that?”

Beles took the candy and popped it in his mouth the second he unwrapped it. The burst of soothing honey felt pleasant to his sore throat. It had been hurting for a couple days, even tea didn’t feel like it helped much. At least the heavy concentration of honey in the candy was a bit of a saving grace. He savored the sweet taste as he spoke with his hands.

_“Quite some time. I do not know how long.” _

Hanneman’s eyebrows shot up, “Oh? A while? How curious.”

Beles had always known ever since he learned his first spell. He did it a couple times with Byleth and Sothis, and he always made them a little happier with it. Byleth always looked better with shining eyes of— of admiration, if Beles were to guess.

The professor placed a hand on his chin as Beles rocked a bit on his feet.

“Well, Beles, I can certainly tell that you have an oddly large reserve of magic, and to have mastered it to tiny concentrated bursts is absolutely a sign of—“

The loud monastery bells rang, signifying that it was mid-day. It made the professor pause in his ramblings. The edge of Beles’ lips twitched. It was tea time with Rhea soon.

Hanneman ruffled Beles’ hair with a knowing smile on his face, “Ahh, looks like that’s all for today, Bel. Off you go. Lady Rhea should be expecting you.”

Beles took off without much fanfare. He knew that the Archbishop would be waiting in her usual place in the gazebo. The moment he left the training hall, he made his way past the gazebo and peeked his head into the Knight’s Hall. He scanned the training area to find a familiar dark blue.

There were a couple of knights around the area. They all gave Beles a nod of acknowledgement. Silently, the boy was glad that Alois wasn’t in sight. Maybe the knight was off on a mission again?

He found Carrol polishing a sword by the fireplace. The other boy seemed focused on his task - a stark comparison to his usual bright demeanor. Beles quickly trotted up to him. His bell caught Carrol’s attention before he even made it past the doorway.

“Bel? What— what are you doing here??” Carrol sounded genuinely surprised. It was probably a given, considering how it was always the other way around with Carrol finding him first.

Not that Beles really noted. Carrol always appeared out of nowhere to him.

Beles came to a stop in front of Carrol, who blinked up at him.

“Beee-hhhm?“

Carrol trailed into an odd hum as watched Beles spell out a single word over, and over, and over.

_“Tea.” _

“Tea…?” he echoed in confusion. Beles just nodded and gestured him to follow him. Carrol sheathed the sword in his hands and called over his shoulder to the closest knight, “Sir Yonne— May I be excused?”

The said knight looked up from her own spear with a hum. She looked like she was about to refuse, but her eyes caught Beles’ blank ones. “Of course, Carrol. Just make sure you put that sword where it belongs.”

“Gotcha! Thanks~” There was a sing song tone in Carrol’s voice as he did as he was told with a skip in his step. Beles patiently waited at the doorway before taking off. He didn’t bother to look back to know that Carrol followed him.

“Hey! Wait up!”

Beles didn’t slow until he stopped short of the entrance to the gazebo. He almost felt Carrol crash into him as a result.

“Whooooa! I almost tripped over you for a second!” Carrol laughed. He placed a hand on his hip and tilted his head in confusion, “What’s going on, Bel?”

Beles didn’t bother with an answer. He just grabbed the other boy’s hand and pulled him along.

“Oh, Beles, dear,” came Rhea’s voice, “I see you brought someone along.”

Carrol spluttered and tried to come to a stop, “L-l-lady Archbishop!”

“Please, don’t be afraid,” Rhea smiled as she gestured to Seteth’s chair, “Come and join us.”

“Y-yes, Your Grace,” Carrol stammered. Beles didn’t give him a break as he practically pulled him over to the empty chair. Seteth wasn’t likely to show today, but if he did, the older man could always bring another.

As Beles settled himself in his own chair across from Rhea, he found Carrol to be oddly stiff. Was it that strange to be face to face with the Archbishop?

Beles spared a glance at her. Her posture was as straight as always, and proper with the air of serenity that always accompanied her. Well, then again, Rhea could be a little intimidating when she gave Beles that one look of something he couldn’t name here and there. It was like she was searching for something he knew he couldn’t give.

Beles grabbed the closest cookie and munched on it.

Now wasn’t the time to think about those looks.

“What is your name, child?” Rhea asked as she poured Carrol a cup. It smelled like Chamomile.

“It’s Carrol, Your Grace.” 

Wow, Beles didn’t know the other could gather his composure quickly - well, the way Carrol’s hand trembled a bit on the table was the only hint that Beles got that he wasn’t that composed.

Still, it was impressive.

“Carrol? What a lovely name,” Rhea said warmly.

“Th-thank you, Lady Archbishop – Your name is lovely, too,” Carrol stammered. Beles had half the mind to ignore the frantic looks the other sent him, but he decided to just glance at the nearest pastry. Anything sweet usually calmed his own nerves too.

Carrol seemed to take the hint, if not out of desperation not to say anything dumb, and crammed a scone in his mouth.

Rhea hummed in amusement, “My thanks, little one. Truth to be told, I am quite fond of my own name, too.”

Beles grabbed another pastry as she took a sip of her tea.

“It pleases me to see Beles bringing a guest of his own age,” Rhea began pleasantly, giving Beles a gentle pat on his head as she continued, “We often have company, but they are guests I invite.”

Beles casually swung his legs under the table and leaned back in his chair. While Rhea’s hand was warm, it didn’t feel that great to have his hair ruffled. He was not a cat.

There was a soft clank as Rhea placed her cup back in its place, “Tell me, how did you come to know my son?”

There was an odd glint in her eyes - the one that always left Beles a bit confused. He could never understand why Rhea did that sometimes. He watched Carrol squirm at the corner of his eye, who silently begged him to do something.

Beles merely chewed on his pastry. The baked blueberry goodness tasted amazing.

“Beles, dear, mind your chewing.”

Right. Manners.

“W-well, I – I met him at the greenhouse one day,” Carrol fumbled over his words, but he eventually sat up straighter with a grin, “I saw him trying to plant something, but he was doing it all wrong. So, I went ahead and helped him out.”

“Did you now?” Rhea gave Carrol a smile, but Beles could still see that odd glint in her eyes, “How kind of you.”

Carrol shrugged, as if to say that it wasn’t much, “Since then, I’ve been hanging out with him when I could. He’s really fun to be with, Your Grace.”

And there was the normal Carrol. The way he sat with a lighthearted grin and honesty were traits that Beles was familiar with.

Beles easily read the genuine surprise that crossed Rhea’s face. He almost dropped his pastry.

Rhea was never one for surprise for as long as he remembered. She was always prepared for anything.

That surprise slowly eased into a gentle smile, one that Beles often received himself. Confused, he looked between her and Carrol.

“I see,” Rhea’s voice was full of relief as she picked up her cup yet again, “I am glad that you are able to get along with my child. You are on your way to being a courageous young man.”

Carrol laughed a bit, “Thanks for your kind words, Lady Archbishop. I’ll do my best to live up to that!”

“And I’m certain that you will.”

As Rhea laughed with Carrol, Beles silently nodded to himself as he came to a simple conclusion.

He should bring Carrol to tea time again. Maybe with Seteth next time.

._._._._._._.

The late afternoon sunlight was warm against Rhea’s skin. It was a sign that she should probably stop for dinner soon, but her mind wasn’t quite focused on her responsibilities. In fact, she kept finding herself distracted.

Beles was a child that didn’t initiate many things. He always let others start things for him: his lessons, his conversations, anything to deal with interacting with people. He could easily settle with doing things on his own. She knew it was mainly due to the fact that not enough of the staff knew how to properly communicate with him. Of course, the heads of her staff had learned sign language, or the most important signs anyway, but Beles never really seemed to care.

Rhea had never anticipated Beles to _bring_ someone to tea time like that.

Not once did she imagine him actually holding another kid his age and leading the way.

“Carrol… is an interesting child, don’t you think, Seteth?” Rhea said as she flipped through a document. She had it in her hands for a while, but she wasn’t really paying it any mind.

From across the room, Seteth hummed distractedly, “Hm.. Oh, that boy certainly is something. I saw him dragging Beles around the other day - I’m surprised that Beles is able to handle someone like that.”

She sat back and thought about the boy she had met this afternoon. He was a nervous bundle of energy that slowly took back his confidence. She could already tell that Carrol was a force to be reckoned with, especially with her quiet little Beles.

Rhea smiled, “Then again, I suppose it’s proof that he’s growing up.” 

Seteth stopped in his work to look at her, “He certainly has grown - though not much in height.”

“Beles will grow in his own time.” She said that too quickly. Rhea could feel the weighty stare that he gave her and she knew that he had a burning question.

She did nothing to give away her anxiety, “And with a friend like Carrol, I am certain that Beles will be alright.”

Seteth regarded her for a little longer before he turned away, a clear sign that he wouldn’t dare to push the question now.

“I suppose I’ll have to teach that boy how to communicate properly with Bel,” he concluded. He tapped a hand on his chin, “Besides, he seems to already understand him better than the both of us put together.”

Rhea did not flinch at the implications of that statement. Instead, she decided to ignore it, “Yes, it seems so.”

Seteth got up from his seat and turned to leave before he paused, “Rhea…”

The Archbishop hummed from her place, but didn’t look at him.

There was a long silence that passed with only the sound of her clock ticking.

“As much as it bothers me, I… I won’t ask now, Rhea,” Seteth began quietly, “but I hope you know what you are doing.”

He didn’t bother to stay for answer, because Rhea certainly wasn’t about to give one, so he left.

She sat in her chair and stared at the door with a slight frown, “I certainly hope I do.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rhea what did you do. 
> 
> I also apologize for not updating in a while? I was working on my animation, and I'm not done yet. Those following me on twitter/tumblr probably knows what I'm talking about ahahhhhahhahah *cries*
> 
> I only just realized that I haven't really put much emphasis on Beles' bell like I said I would. Oh well. 
> 
> Okay our smol children are on their way to growing up. Who's ready for meeting a couple of Blue Lion students of 1171? 
> 
> Well, tell me what you guys thought of this chapter!


	13. This Game of Candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *click creeeeeaaaaaak*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking a while. Christophe is difficult to write. Not totally happy with this but here we gooooooo
> 
> Edit: LOLOLOL I FORGOT TO NAME THE CHAPTER— 
> 
> Also suggested Alternate title by my beta reader: “This game of GODDAMNIT BELES USE SOME SELF CARE!”

-1171 Great Tree Moon-

._._._._._.

It was almost rare for Beles to have some time with just him and Sothis. Carrol had been roped into doing a couple chores around the monastery, and a bit of training. Rhea had her work, Seteth had planning to do, and Hanneman was busy with his teaching. The new school year for the Officer’s Academy had just begun earlier this month, so of course, they would be busy.

Beles did recall seeing Alois attempting to fish mid morning, and decided to stay far away from the fishing pond for now. He wouldn’t get any fish even if he did try. The greenhouse was a little too quiet without Carrol to help him with the budding flowers in the corner. He actually liked gardening with the other boy.

So, as a result, he found himself retreating to his room to just spend his technically free day in relative peace. Oddly enough, Sothis had nothing against the idea - in fact, she insisted that he rest in his room.

“With all the running around you do, it is good to take a break,” she told him.

Beles had his nose buried in a book when his snowy owl shifted on his shoulder. He didn’t look up from the words to give her a small rub on her fluffy feathers. It’d been over a year since his little owl companion had lived in his room. Of course, Beles had his window open during the day, and left a gap big enough for her to shimmy through at night. In fact, she returned to his room when the morning sunlight peeked over the horizon.

He still hadn’t named it, even though Seteth had gotten used to just calling her “Snowy”. The owl often liked to perch on his shoulder and nibble on his hair from time to time, then settle itself to take a nap during the day.

On his shoulder.

It annoyed him here and there, but he learned to live with it. If anything, his shoulders had probably gotten used to the weight.

As he turned the page of his book, he reached for the closest candy on his desk. He finally looked up when he crushed an empty wrapper instead.

He blinked while his owl hooted.

There were many empty wrappers on his desk. He usually saved a lot of honey ginger candies in the jar he had stashed in a drawer, but the treats had disappeared faster than he realized.

Beles did not pout. 

He did not.

The very last of his candy had already melted away in his mouth, and his throat still ached. Beles closed his eyes for a moment, leaning back as he rubbed at his throat. He had no idea why it felt so terrible. It was never this bad before.

“It hurts again? Honestly, I could’ve sworn I made you go to bed on time last night,” Sothis said as she hovered close to him, “Maybe we should brew some tea to soothe your throat.”

His owl clicked her beak in response.

“See, even Snowy here agrees with me.”

He eyed her warily and the frown on her face got a little deeper, “Or maybe you should tell Rhea about this like I told you several times already.”

Beles promptly decided to ignore that last part. While he was well aware at this point that Rhea was basically his mother. She clearly cared foe him and taught him early on to rely on her, but sometimes he felt that she looked past him. It made it a little difficult to talk to her.

He didn’t know if he cared for her as a son should.

He didn’t know what it meant to “care”, and he was almost afraid to ask. 

“Beles. Don’t ignore me.”

Sothis’ voice broke him out of his thoughts. He sat up and gently scooped his owl into his hands to cradle her to his chest. The owl clicked her beak, and resettled herself for a nap.

Nodding to himself, Beles slipped out of his chair with an empty wrapper in his owl’s feathers and trotted out of his room. Since he ran out of honey gingered candies, he knew that the fastest way to get a few more was through one person.

“Hmmm, let’s make some mint tea, or honey tea,” Sothis said as she followed close behind Beles. Bold of her to assume he aimed for the dinning hall. As he carefully climbed down the steps to the second floor, he let her list off random teas that could help him, but he didn’t want to drink any tea. He would have a cup with Rhea later on today.

He took a quick glance at the closed door of Hanneman’s office, but didn’t slow his pace. It was a sign that the old professor wasn’t in. Beles made his way to the first floor and, instead of cutting through the Entrance Hall, he took a turn towards the Officer’s Academy.

“H-hey! Aren’t you going to the dining hall?” Sothis spluttered. Beles only gave her a shrug and casually walked down the open hallway. “Beles, you better not be up to anything— you shouldn’t be here during class hours.”

Oh, he was certainly up to something alright. Beles stopped in front of the large doors of the Blue Lions’ Classroom and reached over to the doorknob.

“W-w-wait, child, no - don’t! They’re in the middle of class—”

Beles clicked open the door and pushed his way inside. The door was a lot heavier than what he expected.

“—and with the surrounding terrain, be sure to— Hm?“

There were a lot of surprised gasps and curious hums as he casually stepped inside.

“Hey— isn’t that—“

“The Archbishop’s son?!” someone spluttered, and just like that the class fell silent.

At the corner of his eyes, he saw Sothis heave a heavy groan and bury her face in her hands, “Why— Whhhhyyyy do I even try.”

“Beles?” Hanneman’s eyebrows were near his hairline as he placed an open book on the desk. Beles didn’t bother to look at any of the students as he promptly made his way to him. “This is a pleasant surprise— I see you’ve brought Snowy with you— is there something wrong?”

Hanneman had bent a knee to get to Beles’ height.

Beles shook his head and retrieved the wrapper in the feathers. 

“You seriously— Bel, this could’ve waited,” Sothis sighed.

He dropped it in Hanneman’s waiting hand and tilted his head. It took a moment for the old professor to understand before his eyes lit up, “Ah— aahhhh, that’s what you came here for.”

Hanneman looked up at his class and addressed them, “Class, let’s end a tad early today.”

Beles took a step closer to grab Hanneman’s hand as the old professor stood up. Some of the students spluttered when Hanneman gave him a pat on the head.

What was so odd about him being treated this way? Beles mentally waved it off.

Hanneman turned to the class, “Don’t forget to read chapters three to five in preparation for our next class in tactics and strategy planning. Christophe and Cassandra, don’t forget that the two of you are assigned to horse duty today. Any questions?”

There wasn’t any.

“Huh, maybe you should go out more, Bel,” Sothis said as she hovered to his height. She placed a hand on her chin with a grin on her face, “Look at their faces - all gobsmacked with shock.”

Beles swept one quick gaze over all the students. It was so strange to see almost every single one dropping their jaws.

“All right then. Class dismissed,” Hanneman said after a moment of utter silence and turned to Beles with a smile, “Come along, Bel. I do believe I have a few left in my office.”

No one moved as the pair (including Sothis) strode toward the doors. Only one student with azure hair jumped out of his seat, “L-let me get the door for you, Professor!”

“Ah, thank you, Christophe,” Hanneman gave him a nod, “Much appreciated.”

“Of course!”

As they walked past the door, Beles couldn’t help but look over his shoulder to stare at the student. Christophe caught his eye, and he was quick to give him a polite smile. Beles could only blink in response, and the student was out of his sight.

Christophe seemed like a nice student, Beles had thought to himself.

._._._._._._.

To be quite honest, Christophe had only heard stories about the son of the Archbishop — they often claimed that the boy was a very quiet one. Before he arrived for the Officer’s Academy, he wasn’t expecting to see much of the Archbishop’s son, as Christophe himself wasn’t that high up the ladder. Of course, he knew that the Kingdom had a close relation to the Church because of its founding, hence the name of the Holy Kingdom.

He just never expected to see a child dressed in flowy white and gold clothes to waltz into his class without a care in the world. For a second, it was hard to believe his eyes— until Professor Hanneman put a name to the child.

“Hey, Chris— are you listening to me?” a voice cut through Christophe’s thoughts and pulled him back into reality. He didn’t realize that his mind had wandered.

“Ah, sorry, Cassandra,” he apologized. His classmate only raised an eyebrow. “What were you saying?”

Cassandra placed a hand on her hip, “I said that we should get going— our time’s almost up.”

“It is?”

“The sun’s about to set.” She shifted her weight, “Man, you’ve been really distracted lately— what’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” Christophe responded, “Just thinking.”

He looked at the horse comb in his hands and back at the grey horse he tended to. By the looks of it, he brushed the same place far too many times, judging by how smooth a portion of the mane was. Wow, he was really distracted.

“Is it because of class today? I’m glad that kid barged in.” Cassandra waved a dismissive hand, “I thought the lecture would never end.”

Christophe huffed as he combed the horse’s mane properly, “You just wanted to go back to training, didn’t you?”

“Of course!” Her hands flew up, “I mean, what’s good about knowing all these tactics and not putting them into practice?”

“Cassandra, how much of that do you actually practice?”

“…Okay, you win,” she admitted after a moment, then placed a hand on her hip, “But, that doesn’t tell me what’s on your mind, Chris. Come on, we’re friends!”

He gave her a smile as he finished up his task, and turned her, “I’m just wondering how you’re going to graduate this year, that’s all.”

Cassandra dropped her jaw before she grinned, “Oh? Is that a challenge? I’ll crush that concern of yours.”

There was a grin on Christophe’s face, “Please do.”

The two decided to end their group task and reported their results. Professor Hanneman wasn’t accompanied with anyone when they dropped by, so Christophe figured that the green haired child had gotten what he needed.

With the day done, and the weekend just around the corner, Christophe made a quick stop at his dorm before he headed for dinner. The moment he opened the door, he froze.

There, crouching low with an arm under his bed and green eyes staring right at him, was the Archbishop’s son.

There was a long awkward moment of silence as they just stared at each other, one out of shock, and the other— well, it was difficult to tell with the boy.

Eventually, the youngest broke the staring contest and went back to reaching underneath his bed. There was a sound of a bell ringing softly in his movements.

Christophe took that moment to recollect himself. “Good evening! What... Is there something under my bed?”

Faintly, Christophe knew he didn’t store anything under his bed— and maybe it occurred to him that he should be more concerned over the fact a child — the  Archbishop’s son  of all children — was in his room of all places. He honestly didn’t know how to address the boy, and tried to recall his name. Professor Hanneman said it earlier— what was it?

“Ah, Beles?” he called out as he walked further into his room. He didn’t shut the door and left it wide open as a sign that he didn’t want to startle the boy. Yet, as Beles didn’t look up, Christophe decided that the boy didn’t care in the first place.

He knelt down by the boy, “What are you looking for?”

A quiet meow gave him his answer.

A cat.

There was a cat under his bed.

Beles sat up and dropped his shoulders. His clothes were ruffled up and smudges of dirt were staining the edges of his long sleeves. It was unnerving to see how blank those green eyes were and how flat his expression was.

Christophe took a look underneath his bed and spotted a cream colored adult cat. He could’ve sworn the cat smirked at him.

Beles must’ve been chasing this cat for quite some time.

He frowned and sat back up to met the boy’s gaze, “I guess you were chasing this cat? It must be giving you a hard time.”

He waited for an answer, but Christophe was only met with silence. Beles continued to stare at him with his seemingly dead eyes. It was only then that he remembered a very important fact.

The son of the Archbishop was mute.

He silently berated himself for forgetting such a thing as he offered Beles a smile. “Here, why don’t we make a makeshift toy to lure it out of there?”

Christophe glanced around his room to search for anything that would work (if not to avoid the boy’s unnerving stare). He got up and strode over to his desk. There was an owl feather he picked up from the ground the other day— he could use that. He opened his drawer and searched for any string he could possibly use. As he moved away from his desk to look elsewhere, he felt eyes watch his every step.

“Now, where can I find a string...?” Christophe muttered out loud. He only did it to fill in the pressing silence, but he never expected to hear a bell ringing. He turned to see the boy untie the bell around his neck and offered the silk ribbon to him. “Your ribbon? But your bell seems important. Are you sure I can use this?”

Beles blinked, glanced to the side for a split second, then handed over his bell, too.

Christophe pressed his lips together as he tried to figure out what the boy wanted. Did he really want him to use it for their makeshift toy? What if the cat destroyed it? That bell looked like its seen better days, but would it really survive an onslaught of a cat....?

The boy blinked once, glancing between the ribbon and the feather in Christophe hand, before mimicking the action of tying a knot.

Christophe finally understood, “Oh! Well, if you’re sure. Thank you— Uh,I apologize. I am not quite sure how to address you.”

It was hard. Beles didn’t exactly have a designated role in the church (well, Beles probably did, but it wasn’t like it was announced to the world) to begin with.

Beles shook the bell in his hand and pointed to himself.

“Bell? You want me to call you ‘Bell’?” Christophe asked.

A firm nod.

Christophe smiled, “Bell it is then.”

._._._._._._.

The heat of the greenhouse started to get to Carrol as he wiped the sweat off his brow. He hadn’t been weeding for a while, but summer was just around the corner and the greenhouse was bound to get a little warmer now. He sighed and seated himself on a ledge for a break.

It’s rare for him to find some time for himself— especially with his new found duties and responsibilities. The knights had him running all around the monastery with little errands, and he had recently been training with a lance in addition to his usual sword training. The two hour lessons with Seteth were a literal surprise. Then again, Carrol agreed the second it was given to him, so he couldn’t complain. 

At all.

He remembered the very day Seteth basically whisked him away for those lessons.

_“Carrol reporting to duty, Sir Yonn— oh, hello again Seteth!” Carrol gave a sloppy salute to the adults in the room. He didn’t know why he was summoned a tad earlier to the Knight’s Hall than usual, but he didn’t mind. Beles had his own duties as a priest-in-training, so Carrol had nothing to fill his time with._

_As Seteth returned his greeting with a nod, Carrol’s mentor, Sir Yonne, waved him over, “Come here, Carrol—“_

_Obediently, Carrol followed her order and stood beside her, “What’s going on?”_

_Sir Yonne glanced at Seteth, then back to him, “So, I’ve heard that you’ve befriended the Archbishop’s son. While I’m glad you managed it, there’s a slight problem with that.”_

_ Seteth cleared his voice and took over, “It’s clear to me that you truly are a friend to Beles, and it is for that reason that I will begin to teach you sign language— among other things.” _

_ Carrol lit up, “You will?! That will be—“ _

_ “But!” Sir Yonne interjected with a hand held up, “You will be taking these lessons along side your apprenticeship to me— which means, not only are you training during the day, performing weapon maintenance, and running errands, but spending time learning with Seteth.” _

_ She paused to look at Carrol, who couldn’t seem to contain his excitement, “Well, it might not seem like a lot, but it will take up a lot of your time. But, that’s only if you’re willing.” _

_ “I’ll do it!” Carrol blurted out. An opportunity to learn Beles’ form of communication was one he would never dare to pass up! If he learned it, then he could help out more than just being a friend— _

_ “Then we start immediately,” Seteth said suddenly. Carrol didn’t realize that he was being pulled out of the Knight’s Hall until it was too late. Sir Yonne stayed where she was with an amused smirk on her face. _

_ She waved, “Report to me after you’re done. Good luck, Carrol!” _

Carrol nervously laughed at the memory. At the very least, he already knew the alphabet, so that was easy. Yet, Carrol began to learn that it was not easy learning from Seteth (how in the goddess’s name did Beles study under Seteth without dying at the sheer amount of information???). Nevertheless, he was glad that he was able to understand Beles a little more - he still had a lot to learn. Also, he noticed that Seteth had been teaching him more than just sign language. It was subtle at first, but Carrol caught on to the random history facts, and the little writing assignments he received here and there. It was actually pretty clever of the Archbishop’s right hand.

The faint sounds of a bell ringing in a distance brought Carrol out of his thoughts. It sounded frantic.

He immediately stood up and rushed to the doors. He was surprised to see a familiar figure racing down the steps of the dormitory.

“Bel?!” Carrol spluttered. 

The said boy noticed Carrol a second too late, and crashed into him. He instinctively wrapped his arms around Beles when he felt his balance tip over, “Holy—“ 

They both landed on the ground in a loud heap. A bell clattered to the side and Carrol was winded. He laid there for a moment, still trying to process what just happened. Beles seemed a little dazed as he stared at him. 

“A-ahh— Hi, Bel!” Carrol grinned before he heard a yowl. At the corner of his eye, he saw a cat leap into the air, “wha—“ 

The tail whacked his mouth and he spluttered. That absolutely did not taste good. Carrol sighed in relief when he realized that the cat landed by his head and not on top of them. 

He looked down to Beles, “You okay?” 

Beles nodded his head and promptly got off of him. Vaguely, Carrol realized that he didn’t hear the usual soft bell. 

As Carrol got up, he heard another person running down the stairs of the dormitory. His azure hair was a bit messy, but it was a given with how fast he moved. He strode right over to them with concern clear in his eyes, “Bell, are you boys alright? I saw that fall— any scratches? Cuts?” 

Carrol smiled with a small laugh, “Ahaha! We’re okay, sir— no injuries here.”

The student sighed in relief and gave them both a pat on their heads, “My goodness, that gave me quite a scare.” 

Beles bent down to pick something off the ground. The cream cat meowed playfully and Carrol finally figured out where Beles’ bell was. 

There, swinging back and forth, was a wooden pencil with the golden bell and a white owl feather attached at the end. Carrol felt his jaw drop when he realized that the string was Beles’ ribbon. 

“You took off your bell??” 

Beles didn’t bother to glance at him as he continued to play with the cat.

“Ah— About that,” The student scratched the back of his head, “it was more of a quick solution to getting the cat out from under my bed.” 

Carrol looked at the student, “oh— when you put it that way, it makes sense.”

“It... does?” It was almost funny to watch the disbelief on his face. 

“Yup!” Carrol nodded as he turned back to gesture to Beles, “Things like that happen here and there— sorry about the small cat problem.”

“Oh, no! It was not a problem at all. It was just... an unexpected surprise when I returned to my room,” the student said.

Carrol placed a hand on his hip and grinned, “I’m Carrol! And it seems like you already met him, but he’s Beles! You are?”

The student smiled, “Christophe Gaspard. Nice to meet you, Carrol, Beles.”

It was then that Beles tugged on his sleeve. Carrol wasn’t surprised to see the other carrying the cat in his arms. Apparently, playtime was over. 

“Yeah, Bel?” he prompted him. It was something he always did when it seemed like Beles wanted to say something. And, by the goddess was he glad Seteth had grinded a majority of his lessons into his memory. Beles’ free hand moved quickly while Christophe watched curiously. 

_ “Carrol, thank him for me. I did not mean to cause trouble.” _

“Oh, sure!” Carrol turned to the older student and placed both hands on his hip with a grin, “Beles wanted to thank you for your help, and says he didn’t mean to trouble you much.” 

Christophe blinked in surprise — a reaction that Carrol himself was very familiar with when it came to Beles — before smiling in response, “You were no trouble at all, Bell. I actually had a bit of fun.” 

The cat meowed in response. Well, it seemed like it wasn’t only Christophe who had fun. 

Beles tilted his head for a second before he nodded once. He turned on his heel and began to walk away. 

“H-hey, wait up!” Carrol called after him, then turned to Christophe, “Ah, sorry about his, uh, way of doing things? But, yeah! I’ll see you around!” 

“Ah, take care!” 

Carrol hurried after Beles, who had disappeared into the greenhouse, and ducked right in before the doors closed on him. He spotted Beles unceremoniously dropping the cat to the ground before he absolutely struggled to get the bell off the pencil. He laughed a little and came to his side, holding out a hand smeared in dirt for the makeshift cat toy. 

Beles’ eyes narrowed by a tiny bit, and the edge of his lips twitched, but he gave up the toy in Carrol’s waiting hand. 

“Wow, did you seriously follow a cat into a student’s dorm, Bel?” Carrol teased as he worked at the knot in the ribbon. His smile never left when the other boy stared at him, almost as if to ask how he knew that. Carrol shrugged his shoulders, “You have a bad habit of following animals where you’re not supposed to— it’s not that hard to figure it out.” 

He could’ve  sworn he saw Beles pout, but it was gone in a blink of an eye. 

“Aha! Got it!” The ribbon finally loosened up and Carrol was able to detach it from the wooden pencil. He handled it back to Beles, “I think the feather looks kinda nice on the bell— oh but it would tickle your neck though.” 

Beles seemed to ignore that statement as he tied it (bell and feather) at its usual place— around his neck. Carrol couldn’t help but laugh at the other, and ignore the narrowed gaze he got. For as long as he had known him, Beles was always an easy person the read, despite the flat expression in his face. 

It was so clear to Carrol. 

Beles really did have a fun today. 

._._._._._.

Beles absolutely wanted to run, but his body refused to move. His eyes were sealed, and his head rested against the familiar armrest. 

He knew this dream.

He knew it so bitterly well. 

Someone always, always stood before him.

It wasn’t Rhea. 

It was never Rhea.

He wanted to scream and wake up - to get up and run away. 

But he couldn’t move his muscles. 

He could only  _breathe_. 

Something metal scraped against a sheath. 

Heavy footsteps echoed hollowly. 

A deep breath and a growing roar—

The sweet, flinching sound of a sword cutting through air—

And there was nothing he could do to stop it. 

Vibrant green eyes snapped open the moment he felt the pain rip through his body. Beles threw the blanket off of himself and sat up in his bed. He gasped to get air in his lungs, and did his absolute best not to scream bloody murder. Small, strangled whimpers hummed in his strained throat. It felt like a burning fire tore at his back and scorched through his veins, bit by bit.

Beles pulled his knees to his chest and curled into a tight ball. He didn’t notice how his nails dug into his legs. It hurt to move, to breathe, to even think— 

He wanted it to stop. 

But it never stopped.

He forced himself to take one breath at a time, one after another— in and out, in and out— until the searing pain dulled to a deep ache in his bones. 

He was left gasping, shaking like a leaf as a heavy exhaustion settled on his body. Beles squeezed his eyes shut as he just sat there, reeling in the soreness that plagued him.

It was a method he resorted to when he realized how often he had this reoccurring dream. A terrible dream that always seemed so peaceful and gentle at first. 

But now it brought nothing but fear and panic that crawled in his chest.

He was always afraid of this dream. He could still remember the faces Rhea and Seteth made when they burst into his room a couple times before. He couldn’t do that to them. Not again— not ever. They were so kind (but— no, Rhea is kind. She is—) to him. He was the son of the Archbishop— he couldn’t be like this— a trembling wreck from a terrible, terrible dream. If Rhea found out that he had this dream again— who knew what would happen to her— or to Byleth— or even his Sothie. 

He didn’t like it.

He didn’t like it at all.

Vaguely, he felt a cold hand rest on his arm. It felt soothing against the aching heat that clung to him. Beles dared to peek over his crossed arms. 

Sothis was there, running a hand he didn’t completely feel in his hair. Her face had a definite frown, and a look in her eyes that Beles couldn’t name - but he’s seen it before, more so on Rhea. 

“I’m sorry,” she said with a tone that matched her eyes, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—“

Over and over and over. 

It almost lulled him to sleep, but not in a way he considered as nice. 

Her voice made something prick at the corner of his eyes. He didn’t realize that it was wet until Beles closed his eyes.

_It’s okay__,_ he wanted say,  _I don’t blame you._

But he didn’t . 

He couldn’t. 

He leaned into her hand instead, and waited until the sun peeked into his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaahhh— Beles is so full of insecurities it huuuurts!! 
> 
> But uh, happy holidays! 
> 
> Okay but like don’t worry— enjoy the peace while it lasts.....!!!!
> 
> And tell me what you thought of this chapter! 
> 
> Hope I update before the end of the year! If not— Happy New Year!!


	14. This Game of Wins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *clack clack wack!*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I.... I rewrote this four times, and the spacebar on my laptop is broken. 
> 
> ...It's now a love-hate relationship with autocorrect.

**-1171 Blue Sea Moon-**

To be quite honest, Beles preferred his black magic to a lance. It was easier to call the magic at the tip of his fingers, than to physically move a lance. Seteth had told him time and time again that knowing Faith and Reason wouldn’t enough to rely on. Beles begged the differ, but training with Carrol made Beles reconsider that.

_Thwack!!_

The jarring hit from Carrol’s wooden sword sent Beles sliding a couple inches back. He didn’t dare to keep their weapons in a lock for long. He quickly backed off, letting the weight of Carrol’s attack follow through.

Carrol didn’t stumble from it. The wide grin on his face was the only warning that Beles had.

“This is it!” Carrol cried as he raced forward. Beles braced himself. The wooden lance in his hand was gripped securely as he waited for the right moment. Carrol aimed for an upwards strike, that much was clear. All Beles had to do was stop it somehow.

The thing about wielding a lance were the high chances of smacking the end or the tip into the ground and stumbling over. It was never pleasant when the wood dug into his hands from mistakes like those. Beles had wondered if he should’ve just picked up a sword and trained with that, but he favored the reach of the lance. Besides, Byleth loved her sword.

_Whack!_

“Oooooooooow! Didja have to hit me there.....?!” Carrol complained as he dropped his wooden sword and rubbed at his wrists. Beles pulled back from his extended pose and waited patiently for the other to recuperate. He might’ve accidentally hit him a little too hard.

Unintentionally, of course.

“Never drop your sword, Carrol!” snapped a knight as she advised from the side. Seteth had stood next to her with his lips pressed together. If Beles remembered correctly, that knight was Sir Yonne, Carrol’s mentor for his supposed knight training. She had a firm frown on her face as she continued, “If this was a real battle, you would be dead by now!”

Carrol had a funny frown that crossed between embarrassment and sheepishness. Beles was aware that only Carrol could manage that expression.

He stood there for a moment, just watching Carrol, before he remembered Byleth.

_“You know, mercy is nice, but I learned that it shouldn’t be given during a battle_,” she said once or twice.

With that in mind, Beles immediately smacked Carrol with the end of his lance— squarely in the stomach. Carrol spluttered as he fell to the ground, completely defeated.

“Gaaaahhh! I yield! I very much yield!”

That officially marked his fifth win of the day, with two wins to Carrol. Beles almost frowned.

Almost.

At the corner of his eye, Beles caught Sir Yonne rubbing her forehead in apparent stress (or disappointment?) and Seteth didn’t dare to hide his beaming face.

To be very honest, Beles felt like he wasn’t actually winning the mock battles. It felt like Carrol was letting him win. That in itself said a lot about the skill the other had. It was certainly different from any lesson Beles had - even though he hadn’t trained with anyone his own age.

Carrol was good - some moves he did seemed pretty reckless or pointless, but it worked out in the end. Beles watched him before and Carrol never allowed his opponents win.

This was...

It didn’t feel fair.

Well, whatever misgivings Beles had, he could at least appreciate the other’s perseverance. Carrol always popped back up like a daisy in spring— it was fitting actually.

Not even a minute later, Carrol flipped to his feet and grabbed his wooden sword once again. He pointed it to Beles with a bright smile, “Let’s go again!”

See?

Beles readied a lax stance of his own. He had learned that the more relaxed he seemed the easier it was for him to move— not that he understood why. Must’ve been from hanging out with lazy cats or something.

“Great!” Carrol shook his arms one last time, “Here we gooo——hng?!?

“No— that’s enough,” Seteth said as he grabbed the back of Carrol’s shirt and lifted up. Beles lowered his lance as he watched the other scramble in the air. “Training will end here today.”

“Good work, Your Holiness,” Sir Yonne nodded to Beles with a short bow, “You have been improving well over the last few months. It seems that this new training regime with my apprentice is beneficial to you. Carrol, despite his overall performance, seems to be catching on. Both of you will become splendid fighters one day.”

Carrol stopped struggling in the air and smiled, “Really?! Even though I got my ass handed to me?”

“Language!!” Both the adults yelled, and Seteth hissed under his breath, “The _nerve _of this child.”

Beles placed a hand over his mouth. His lips twitched and he didn’t know if he was about to make a face of some sort. His self-control slipped when he huffed a stunted laugh. It wasn’t heard over the pained yelp from Carrol when Sir Yonne pinched his cheeks.

Seteth dropped Carrol from his grip with a sigh, “As Sir Yonne said, you both did well today. We’ll have another training session together again next month.”

“Next month?” Carrol echoed as he placed a hand on his hip, “why not next week? Or tomorrow?”

Beles dropped his hand to sign, _“I need to prepare for this month’s ceremony.” _

“Oh, right!” Carrol rocked on his feet and stabbed the ground with the wooden sword, leaning his weight on it, “the Goddess Rite of— uhhhh of whatever’s the name is coming up. I heard it’s such a big festival- I can’t wait for it!”

Seteth raised an eyebrow, “The Goddess’s Rite of _Rebirth. _Were you not here last year?”

Sir Yonne waved a hand with a shake of her head, “He arrived the month after the festival. He’s been under my apprenticeship since then.”

“Ah, I see,” Seteth nodded in understanding before patting Carrol’s shoulder, “In that case, it will be a pleasure for you to join us this year, Carrol. It will also be Beles’ first time participating in the ceremony. The preparations for the rite is a long process, but don’t doubt for a moment that there will be more lessons from me to you.”

Carrol paled for a split second (a moment that Beles was sure he would’ve missed if he blinked) before rocking on his feet with a laugh, “Gotcha!”

He turned to Beles, “Let’s do our best, Bel!”

The lifted hand that Carrol practically threw at him was sudden. Beles couldn’t help but blink at it. What... what in Fodlan was Carrol doing?

Completely unsure what to do, Beles just nodded and placed the tip of his fingers in the center of the other’s palm. Carrol spluttered before laughing out loud.

“Ahahaha! That’s not— pfft, whatever!” he said as he wrapped his fingers around Beles’ hand and swung them back and forth in an unsteady rhythm, “This is fine, too!”

Beles had drawn a blank. He barely understood what Carrol did anymore, and the happy grin on his face made Beles wave it off.

It was just another odd thing was added in his steadily growing list about Carrol.

._._._._._.

The birds chirped around him, and passing conversations faded in and out. The words on the page started to bleed together. Or at least, that was what Beles thought. He blinked his tired eyes and rolled to his side. The grass felt nice against him, and he was sure his clothes were stained with green now. He breathed out, trying to ease the headache he felt.

The day passed by so slowly that he almost wished that he had company. Everyone was so busy since the end of the month was coming quickly. The monastery began to feel a bit crowded and louder than usual as more and more people began to fill the grounds.

He was getting tired of reading all by himself.

He was lucky that he managed to find a shady spot in the courtyards that was out of the way. Sothis had fallen asleep again. She hadn’t woken up for quite some time, so he figured that she needed a long nap. It wasn’t often it happened, and Beles learned that it wasn’t something to be too concerned about it.

Maybe.

He had already done his practice for the Rite— just a simple dance that was longer than usual. He still had to be fitted with his new outfit for the day, but he forgot where he was supposed to go for that. He could always ask Rhea during dinner tonight or Seteth in the morning.

He breathed out once again, bored out of his mind. It was so quiet without his Sothie that it felt like a part of him was… missing? 

Beles sat up as his mind whirled.

Was that what it was called? That hollow feeling in his chest?

The soft ringing of his bell merged with the birdsong and light chatter around him. His head hurt, and he tugged lightly at his hair. He bit his bottom lip as he struggled to cope with… this hollow, missing(?) feeling in his chest.

It didn’t feel nice.

It felt terribly cold - the type of cold that liked to cling to his limbs and strangle his throat.

He—

“Are you alright?”

A voice filtered through Beles’ hazy thoughts. He gasped, snapping his eyes open. He didn’t realize that he had curled up in a tight ball. He looked up to see someone he hadn’t expected.

Christophe had a look of—concern (yes, Beles knew this expression well—it wasn’t one that he often liked). He had knelt by Beles, hovering a hand near his shoulder as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch him. For some odd reason, the cold that crept up on Beles seemed to fade a bit.

“Good afternoon, Your Holiness,” he greeted, “mind I join you?”

Beles didn’t know what to do other than stare.

What…. what was he just called?

Why was he addressed that way? Didn’t he tell Christophe to call him Bell?

“I’ll take that as a yes.” An uncertain smile showed up on the student’s face as he took seat next to him, “It’s a nice day to read outside.”

There was a book in his hands, and Beles didn’t recognize it.

Christophe blinked at him, “Ah. Are you curious?”

He never read _The Shepherds’ Tale_ before.

The smile turned genuine, “It’s a tale about a prince and his tactician, and of how they worked together to make their dreams of peace come true. I can lend you the book— it’s my own personal copy.”

Beles stared at the book being held out to him.

It did sound like an interesting story.

He took the offered book, flipped to the first page, and handed it back to Christophe. The student made a weird hum, and raised an eyebrow.

“Are you…” Christophe trailed off as if he searched for the right words, “Hmmmm, would you like to join me?”

Beles nodded once, and held his knees to his chest.

Christophe shifted in his spot and relaxed his shoulders, “It happened upon a day of peace, where a man dreamed of a future he didn’t understand…”

As he read, Beles closed his eyes and allowed the words to wash over him. The cold that seeped in his bones slowly melted to a dull pain— a pain that he had grown accustomed to.

He sat there, listening to the story, and dreamed.

._._._._._.

On the day of the Rite, Carrol found himself in utter awe. The whole cathedral was decorated in hundreds of white flowers and golden sheets of cloth that hung from the walls and rafters. It seemed so much brighter than it did in the usual dim light, despite the place being filled to the brim.

He was near the front with his mentor. Sir Yonne stood at ease, but the grip on her lance told otherwise. Carrol himself had a sword strapped to his side, and chainmail under his tunic. Everywhere Carrol looked, there was a knight standing guard. For a ceremony as big and important as this, he wouldn’t be surprised if every single knight available was assigned at the Cathedral.

Carrol had no idea what to really expect from the ceremony. From what he’d heard, the Archbishop and her advisor were meant to pray at the Goddess Tower then return to the Cathedral for the blessings of the Goddess. It almost seemed like Beles had no particular part to play if that was the case.

“Carrol, look there,” said Sir Yonne as she gestured to the side, “it’s about to start.”

He looked and only saw Lady Rhea and Seteth taking their place before the altar. They looked a bit different, since Seteth had worn white instead of his usual deep blue. Lady Rhea had laced, white flowers around her and they swayed gently as she moved. Carrol knew that the two had probably finished the main ceremony.

The Archbishop stood tall with her head held high and wore a proud smile. Her own advisor had a similar expression as he stood close to her.

As if on cue, the organ began to play, and the choir sang their first notes. The loud chattering quieted down and everyone turned their attention to the altar. Carrol didn’t quite understand why the two leaders of the church nodded to each other before stepping to the side.

His mismatched eyes grew wide with astonishment.

There, standing in the space between the two, was a small figure dressed in white and gold. Beles’ priestly outfit garbed him in a certain radiance that filled the air. It felt so assuring, and warm—Carrol could hardly believe that he was the very same Beles that would fall into a fishpond if no one looked.

The way Beles held himself as he strode across the altar, the certainty in his deliberate steps—

At first glance, it felt like watching someone entirely different. Yet, Carrol could still see his Beles.

Beles’ eyes were narrowed, and his hands gripped his staff a little too tightly. This was the quiet kid who loved sweets, and would one thousand percent disrupt the world for a single honey ginger candy.

For a second, he glanced at him, as if Beles sensed Carrol’s stare.

Carrol couldn’t help but smile. This really was the same boy that he was drawn to at first sight.

Beles only blinked in return and took one step.

His dance— this simple prayer to the Goddess in a language that only Beles could speak—

It took Carrol’s breath away.

As he watched, mouth almost agape and heart fleeting, there was only one thought in his mind.

Carrol would do anything to stay by Beles’ side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love these kids. 
> 
> Alright, who's ready for our fave lil girl? I'm not.
> 
> Also, after playing the DLC, I'm adding them in---it literally fits in with the crap ton of what I originally planned. Seriously---
> 
> Ahhh, tell me what you thought!


	15. This Game of Wonder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *shuffle shuffle, silence*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to remind myself that the twins are twelve.
> 
> Ohmygods they're twelve----
> 
> Warning: Swearing.

-1171 Red Wolf Moon-

._._._._._.

Having a partner to train with was a strange thing to Byleth. She had grown accustomed to Jeralt’s company, since he was the only one who would treat her the way she wanted. On their days on the road, Byleth was used to the sudden questions of tactical strategy, and the occasional run in with bandits. Studying the terrain was one of the many details that Jeralt had drilled into her head during battle.

It was all straight-forward with no corners cut.

Although, the moments of fishing in a river, or pond was nice reprieve. It was a hobby that Jeralt had, and Byleth had seen the appeal. The adrenaline of catching dinner was fun — it tested her patience as well. 

“Don’t worry, By,” Jeralt told her once, “patience comes with time.”

She learned that it was possible to be impatient while waiting for the day to be patient.

At one point, Byleth noticed how different she was compared to kids that looked her age. They all played with wood, while she cut through flesh and blood with iron. She tried to play with them once. She never tried again.

She was not much a child, unlike Beles.

It started to become clear to Byleth how different she was to him. He was quiet, of course, but in a way that made her feel like she needed to coax him into motion. Their games had helped to some degree, but he was just as sleepy as Sothis sometimes. There were times where Byleth felt a twinge of something when she saw Beles and Sothis taking a nap on that stone throne.

If anyone asked, she would deny that it was jealousy.

And no— it didn’t bother her at all.

It did not.

The practice sword came into her line of sight, accompanied with a confident battle cry. How bold of her opponent to just come at her this way.

Byleth didn’t think as she simply reacted. She swiftly sidestepped, grabbed the other’s wrist with her free hand, and twisted the arm against their back. The practice sword thumped to the grass. 

Her opponent, Yura (if Byleth remembered correctly), struggled as she cried out, “Oww!! What the fu—“

Byleth kicked the back of her knees and released her grip on her wrist. Yura crumpled to the ground with a strangled cry.

“You’re bad at this.”

“Ugh— do you have to lay it on me like that?” Yura sat up from her place with a frustrated grit of her teeth, “and who the hell twists people’s arm like that? It hurts like a bitch—”

“I do. How else did you want me to train you?” Byleth straightened her back and placed a hand on her hip, “‘Yura, you’ll get your ass handed to you. Be careful.’”

“….Uuuuuggghh, how do you do that with so much sarcasm and a deadpanned face??”

Byleth merely shrugged and watched Yura groan in frustration as she laid flat on the ground, nursing her arm.

“That’s it— I’m done! You’re too much,” she declared from the ground. Byleth almost scowled.

Almost.

_“Byleth— Strength can win a battle, but mercy can win a war,” _she remembered Beles sign to her once. He told her that after she knocked him down from their little mock battle. She could remember how he smiled so softly at her.

With that in mind, Byleth swatted down and held out a hand, “Come on, get up. I don’t attack defeated opponents.”

Yura stared at her incredulously, “Wow— you’re nicer than you look.”

Byleth almost withdrew her hand out of spite, but Yura grabbed it before she could. Wordlessly, she pulled the other to her feet. It was almost weird to be helping someone other than Beles.

This girl, Yura, was a strange one. This was the girl who challenged her for supposedly hurting her brother. This was the girl who apologized for “pushing” her away. This was the girl who bombarded her the moment Byleth stepped into Remire Village.

Byleth didn’t know what think of her.

“You know, when I said I’d make it up to you the last time you were here,” Yura began as she snatched her practice sword from the grass, “I didn’t expect my arm to be twisted like a rope.”

Byleth shrugged as she took a couple steps back and readied her own practice sword, “Then don’t let me.”

Yura huffed a choked laugh, “Easier said than done!”

A grin flashed on Byleth’s face (Yura froze in slight horror), before she launched herself at her opponent.

Needless to say, she found it amusing to hear Yura spewing a colorful river of words as she technically “sparred” with her.

Byleth didn’t know if she could call it a good time or not.

._._._._._._.

Out of the many things that Hanneman had learned from his years in the monastery, he was not one step closer to figuring out Beles’ Crest— if it even was one. He already knew of the Ten Elites, the Four Saints, and the Crest of Seiros — but nothing matched. There were a few other said to be lost to time, yet Beles’ didn’t match with the descriptions of those either. It was so curious how Beles looked so much like Rhea, but he absolutely didn’t inherit her Crest.

Beles held his hand over the Crest Analyzer, staring at the strange symbols illuminated in the air. Hanneman had already seen it several times, even drawn it on a sheet of paper hidden in his desk. The lines were not fading off at one end, but rather falling apart towards the center. It was chipped, if not crumbling, and it seemed to have gotten little worse since the last he had seen it.

It concerned him.

Highly concerned him.

Could this “Crest” of Beles’ be the cause of the slow growth the boy had shown? Beles’ training had progressed by leaps and bounds, but it didn’t fit with how often the boy slept. More than once, Seteth and Hanneman had brought up the issue with Rhea, but she only insisted that the boy was a growing child.

Hanneman knew for a fact that children at Beles’ age would be active— like Carrol, or at times, nervous and shy.

But Beles was none of that.

The cleric seemed concerned here and there, maybe hinting that it might just be exhaustion, but from what— no one really knew.

Rhea did cut down on his duties as a priest-in-training. Seteth held fewer lessons (though Hanneman was sure it was because he had his hands full with teaching another— Carrol certainly had potential). Even Hanneman had cut back Beles’ magic lessons to a few times a week.

Yet, even with Beles’ schedule practically open, the boy still napped in odd places.

Was it something else that they had missed entirely?

“Bel, have you felt any different lately?” Hanneman asked as he placed a hand on the boy’s head. As far as he could tell, Beles didn’t seem to have a fever.

There wasn’t an answer for a barely noticeable moment until Beles shook his head. He dropped his hand and the “Crest” disappeared.

_“I do not understand what you mean.”_ Beles tilted his head as a sign of confusion— even though it didn’t show on his face.

Hanneman tried not to frown, "Any aches in the body? Lingering fatigue? Or spasms of pain? I wish to be able to help you Beles, but for that, I need you to be honest."

The long pause from Beles was a telling sign, but the boy made no move to answer. Once again, Hanneman prompted him, "You don't need to worry. I know boys often want to look tough, but openness is not weakness."

He watched the boy’s body language as closely as he could. Beles only blinked a couple times before his hands moved.

_“No. I do not feel any of that. I am fine.” _

Hanneman felt his own frown deepen just a bit. Truly?

Beles raised his hands again as he took too long to answer, _“May I go now?”_

Truth to be told, Hanneman did not want to let him go, but he nodded in resignation, “Alright, but if there is anything, please— do not be afraid to tell me.”

The boy’s mouth slacked a bit— the tiniest hint of surprise from him, but it was gone in a blink. Beles gave a tiny nod and left without fanfare.

Hanneman watched him go. A gnarling grip of worry kept him rooted in his place. As much as he wanted to press further, he knew that it would do more harm than good. Beles was never an open book to read, but Hanneman had learned that pushing the boy would cause him to run away.

Metaphorically speaking, of course.

...Most of the time.

With that thought in mind, Hanneman sat back at his desk and opened his drawer. The scattered sketch of Beles’ Crest stared at him, almost teasing him.

As he placed the sketch on his desk and reopened the closest book, Hanneman furrowed his brows and got back to work. There was still some time before his mid-morning lecture, so he could fit a bit of research in. Besides, the answers to his questions should be somewhere— no, it _had _to be.

He had asked Rhea what she thought of it, but the Archbishop evaded the questions better than Beles. (If that was where Beles had learned that skill, then Hanneman was not happy.)

It was a heavy mystery— one that carried a weighty sense of dread and dangerous implications, and yet Hanneman knew he had to solve it.

Beles was a cherished child in the monastery, and they’d all be damned if anything were to happen to him.

._._._._._._.

_Thwack._

A clean hit against the wooden dummy, “Forty-seven!”

_Thwack!_

A jab at the neck, “Forty-eight!”

_Whack!_

A slash across the chest, “Forty-nine!”

Carrol backed off from the training dummy, and readied a low stance. He took one deep breath and shifted on his feet. He gathered a bit of strength and launched himself forward. His sword swung in a low arc, swiftly gaining enough momentum to strike the hip of the dummy loudly. The impact of the hit made him stumble at the sudden stop.

“Fifty!”

He took a few steps back again and stretched. It wasn’t often that he would train on his own, but he had some sort of motivation this time. Call him strange or whatnot, but he felt that he couldn’t slack in his duties any more than he had.

…Not that he had been before!

It was just— there was something strange going on, and he couldn’t put a finger on it.

Yet, he knew it had everything to do with Beles.

Carrol figured out that something wasn’t right with him. Well, of course, he knew that the son of the Archbishop wasn’t exactly normal, per se. It was obvious that Beles was a lonely kid, just like him, but that wasn’t it.

That wasn’t it at all.

There was something seriously wrong with Beles, and he didn’t know what that was.

At least, not yet.

Carrol found himself watching Beles more often than he would like to admit - and he found out a lot of funny things.

One, Beles had a terrible tendency to literally take a nap anywhere, and anytime. The first time Beles fell asleep on him, they were just playing with a bunch of cats. Carrol nearly panicked when the other completely fell over without warning. When it happened a couple times from just running around the monastery grounds, Carrol learned that it was best to get Beles in one place and work with him in single task, like eating or gardening— things like that. It was less likely for them to topple to the ground that way.

Two, Beles had a sweet tooth - but not in the way Carrol thought was possible. Other than sweet buns, Beles really liked lemony, or gingery candies - especially the honey ginger ones Professor Hanneman always gave him. Carrol tried one before, but they weren’t exactly that great. The candies were too spicy even though the honey mellowed the flavor in his opinion. At least, Beles had a wide spectrum of pastries he liked. But when it came to sweet buns— Carrol learned the hard way not to steal from him.

Three, Beles got along with all of the monastery animals - which was really weird because Carrol recalled reading a couple of fairy tales about princesses being overly familiar with every living creature. Technically speaking, Beles could pass as a fairy tale princess. Well, if he was a girl.

Four, while Beles doesn’t openly show his emotions on his face, it really showed in his eyes - more than his own body language. He was stiff more often than not. The only time Carrol had seen Beles relaxed was the moments he was staring off into space for long periods of time.

Five, Beles had a bad habit of—

“Emergency!!”

Carrol’s attention snapped back into reality. A Knight rushed into the Knight’s Hall with a sense of urgency, pulling the attention of his fellow Knights. Carrol recognized him, but there was no name that came to mind. He still hadn’t learned everyone’s names despite being here for a year.

To his own surprise, Sir Yonne had followed in the Knight with a tight look other face.

The Knight stopped before the group of gathered Knights, “It’s His Holiness— Priest Beles seems to be missing—“

“But isn’t that usual?” said one Knight.

The one next to her nodded, armor clanking, “It’s not unusual for this to happen. You’re not a newbie, are you?”

“No! Well— kind of—“ the reporting Knight stammered, but Sir Yonne saved him— ish.

“No, this is serious,” she said with a hardened voice, “We just came back from meeting with Lady Rhea and she had ordered us to search for Priest Beles. I understand how unusual it seems, considering that it is normal for His Holiness to be missing, but we must work with due haste.”

She glanced over to Carrol, who stared back dumbly, before giving orders, “Split into pairs, search the grounds, even the marketplace. Search the rafters, _especially_ the rafters, only the Goddess knows how that boy gets there— but you get my point. Go!”

The Knights all gave a salute before scattering off in pairs. Carrol moved to join, but he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He looked up, “Sir Yonne! I swear I have no idea where he is—“

His mentor smiled, “I know. This is exactly why I’m going to let you search for him on your own. After all, you always seem to know where he is.”

Carrol frowned, “But wouldn’t it be better if I had someone with me? What if—”

“Priest Beles responds to you better than the others. I have seen it,” Sir Yonne said, “besides, you always end up finding him.”

Carrol didn’t know if he wanted to agree or not. Nevertheless, he nodded in determination and grinned, “So, what did he miss for Lady Rhea to order a search?”

His mentor didn’t look surprised that he asked, instead, raising an eyebrow and answering.

Carrol was gone before she finished, but he already knew.

The fifth thing on Carrol’s list of funny things was Beles’ bad habit of disappearing. Yet now, it wasn’t funny.

After all, Beles was a stickler for tea time with the Archbishop.

._._._._._._.

In hindsight, Beles shouldn’t have followed the cat, but its orange fur was matted and speckled in red. It could’ve been the pattern of the fur, or it might’ve been hurt, and it didn’t sit well with him to leave the cat alone.

So, as a result, Beles trailed after the cat through a passageway he found near the stables. Out of his time exploring the monastery, he was not too surprised about it.

Maybe.

Where he ended up was certainly not what he expected. The underground opened up to a large bridge leading to an area full of warm lights and faint chatter.

He lost sight of the cat after that.

He stood at the start of the bridge, silently debating whether he should turn back or not. At this rate, he might be late a little for tea time. Beles moved to go back the way he came and stopped.

Six, gaping holes encouraged him to turn on his heel. He didn’t realize that there was more than one tunnel that lead here.

Vaguely, Beles wished that Sothis was awake right now. She would know what to do.

She always did.

But she wasn’t here.

Byleth couldn’t even exist outside of his own dreams to be his companion.

If he waited here, would Carrol find him like he always did?

No, waiting here in a place that reeked of murky waters and rotten vegetables (maybe) wasn’t ideal.

Maybe he could ask for directions. Things did seem lively at the end of the bridge (probably). He’d be late for tea time for sure, but maybe Rhea wouldn’t mind if he missed one day…?

Well, he could sacrifice a day of sweet buns (although, he knew that was a lie).

With no other option, Beles strode forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BELES NO. 
> 
> Okay, but seriously, you gotta admit, with the absurd amount of animals in the Abyss, there was a 1000% chance that Bel would follow. 
> 
> Well, tell me what you thought of the chapter


	16. This Game of Grounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *cre-cree-creeeaaak cra-CK CRASHHHHHhhhh*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a while, but here's another chapter of "BELES NO".
> 
> There is a small time skip near the end. 
> 
> Warnings: cursing.

**-1171 Red Wolf Moon-**

._._._._._.

There were many odd events that happened in the Abyss. It wasn’t unusual for a thing or two to be disrupted in the— oddly stable life the Abyssians had. Despite the majority of the population being...not the best of people, it was a perfect shelter for those who had no place in the sunlight. They took in anyone who was an outcast.

Like that one mercenary that swindled a noble to the point of running to the Abyss for help, or that teen who was found floating in the water canals.

That had scared everyone’s soul out of their body— who knew that the teen was still alive enough to drag himself out of the water at the time.

So, yes.

Aelfric had his fair share of surprises. His heart went out to everyone in the Abyss— to the point of becoming the overseeing Cardinal. Even when he met the poor resident children (well, teenagers, but he couldn’t look at them any other way), he asked the Archbishop to allow one more house. In fact, he was on his way to meet his little wolves.

Well, supposedly.

There was a loud crash that clearly sounded like wood splintering apart. The sound echoed down the halls and reached the Ashen Wolves’ terrible excuse of a classroom.

Aelfric dropped the small stack of books in his arms, and his eyes widened. Thankfully (or unfortunately), his wolves hadn’t appeared yet since class didn’t start for another fifteen minutes.

Worried, he swiftly left the classroom to check the commotion. He was only a couple steps away from the classroom when something rammed into him. Or rather some_one. _Aelfric quickly grabbed the child (no, not quite— a preteen rather...?) to prevent them from falling, and blinked in confusion, “...Green?”

It was a pale shade of green that Aelfric had seen before, running around the monastery here and there. He had even watched from afar in the years before he became a Cardinal. He had never seen the child’s face up close.

So, when child looked up, Aelfric’s blood ran cold.

He knew this face.

He knew it all too well.

Not once did he imagine a miniature version of the deceased love of his life standing right here.

He never thought to see _Sitri_ and not Rhea in the supposed _son _of the _Archbishop_.

The boy obviously had the coloring of Rhea (how, Aelfric was afraid to find out), but the shape of his face; the form of his slim body; the roundness of his eyes; the way his hair framed his face— it _screamed_ of _her_.

All of it.

And he was right _here!_

Aelfric blinked once.

Then twice.

Wait.

He dropped to his knees and gripped Sitri’s son by the shoulders, “What— what are you doing here, child? Where is Jeralt?”

It was hard to keep the shock out of his voice, and it was harder still to stop himself from hugging the poor boy. It felt so surreal, he could hardly believe his eyes.

The silence from the boy dragged on, and Aelfric began to worry, “Are you lost? How did you find yourself here?”

Those pale green eyes bore into his soul (the same way her eyes used to watch him once), and he finally noticed the bell tied around the boy’s neck.

Then it hit him.

...Didn’t Sitri have a daughter?

Jeralt had died in the Great Fire almost... twelve years ago or so?

This boy was Beles, adopted son of Archbishop Rhea; the mute Priest of the Church of Seiros.

....Right?

Sitri never had a son to begin with- it was impossible.

With a forced smile, Aelfric loosened his grip on the boy’s shoulders, “I’m sorry. I said quite a few strange things, didn’t I?”

Beles blinked at him, shook his head, and did nothing else.

“Aelfric!” called a voice. They both looked to see a young teen scrambling up to him. Aelfric easily recognized Mel, despite the messy appearance the teen had. There was a layer of dust on his clothes and his reddish hair had a couple of wood pieces. Mel’s expression was definitely frazzled despite the half-hearted smirk on his face, “Aelfric, the supports crashed! The whole marketplace’s a wreck.”

The little priest quickly hid behind Aelfric to stay out of sight. Confused, Aelfric turned to his Ashen Wolf, “The what? How did that happen?”

The house leader shrugged and threw a glance over his shoulder, “Dunno, but like, one moment there was this tiny ass kid—“

“Language, Mel,” Aelfric admonished but it went ignored.

“—wandering in, the next, a giant gust of wind, then the supports cracked and the whole place came down!” Mel placed a hand on his hip and gestured behind him, “Also, Edelweiss is helping with some of the emergency clean up. Some people got hurt from the debris. But, Ari’s probably stuck on the other side. He was asleep in the library the last time I checked.”

Aelfric tried his best not to look at Beles (who was most certainly the culprit as he did seem like a tiny kid), and nodded to Mel, “let’s suspend class for today. Go and help the others. I’ll join in a moment. By the sound of it, we’ll need everyone.”

“Got it,” Mel glanced down, and Aelfric was pretty sure his wolf caught on, “Nice to meet you, lil’ guy— don’t go blowing up any more supports, yeah?”

Ah, so that was what happened.

The teen spun on his heel and hurried back the way he came, leaving the two alone. Aelfric took the moment to look down at Beles, who stared right back him with no hesitation.

It almost pained him that he saw more and more of Sitri despite the boy’s blank expressions. And by the sound of it, this boy was nothing like Sitri outside of resemblance.

And yet—

It didn’t make any sense.

Sitri never birthed a son.

She couldn’t have.

He held a hand to the boy, albeit hesitantly, “Come, let’s get you back to the surface, Beles.”

As the boy took his hand, Aelfric couldn’t help but wonder.

If Beles was truly the adopted son of Rhea, then where in Fodlan did this child come from?

._._._._._.

Rhea was a wreck and she knew it.

There was no note, no sign of struggle—

It was like he just vanished—

Beles barely ever missed tea time with her. She always made sure to invite him on his free days like this one, and always, without fail, did Beles show up.

Call her an overprotective mother or whatnot, but she knew something was wrong when he didn’t appear even after Rhea drank one whole pot by herself.

Rhea couldn’t call it a kidnapping as no ransom came. At this point, it became clear to her that Beles found something he shouldn’t have.

So, Rhea began to fret.

She paced back and forth, back and forth, back and—

“Rhea, for the love of all that is good, sit_ down_,” Seteth stressed. She felt the firm hands on her shoulders, forcing her to stop her movement. “You are bound to make a hole in the ground with all that pacing.”

She whirled on her heel and set her narrowed gaze on him, “I am not— I am not worried.”

The look that Seteth gave her said otherwise.

“…Slightly worried.” Rhea knew how he saw through her lie.

Truth to be told, she was wracked with worry.

And stressed.

But mostly worried.

Then she stopped, “Seteth.”

The oddly firm tone of hers made Seteth blink at her.

Her face was dark as she spoke, “Beles is unaware of what lies underneath the monastery, correct?”

“Of course, he’s unaware,” Seteth answered her, “It’s far too dangerous for him to be there. Although, even if Beles had found that place, I’m not sure who would be in more danger; him or them—”

And then he stopped.

The two shared wide-eyed, slightly terrified looks.

“Oh.”

._._._._._.

Carrol stared at the half hidden crack in the wall with a hand on his hip and an old ribbon in the other. The dog that sat beside him wagged its tail excitedly, incredibly proud of itself.

“Oh, my goddess, he did not,” Carrol stated rather bluntly.

He glanced down, sharing such a long look with the dog that it even clamped its jaw shut.

“Shit.”

And just like that, the dog dove into the crack and Carrol scrambled to squeeze himself into the tight fit. He could see why Beles probably didn’t think twice about where he went. The son of the Archbishop was oddly small for his age (no seriously, Carrol was almost a head taller at this point), and that meant it was that much harder to find him.

There was a reason for that bell.

Carrol was thankful that he was able to slip through with a few scratches, and he could barely see anything in this darkness. The dog barked and Carrol followed in its general direction. He couldn’t help but wonder how the _hell _did Beles manage in this.

Then again, Beles did everything by the flow or with a single mindedness that was almost hard to keep up with.

He hadn’t spent too long in this tunnel of sorts when he heard a distant crash and faint voices up ahead. Carrol spluttered a laugh and picked up his pace.

There!

Beles had to be there!

Although, it was a strange, if not highly unusual, place to sound for a crash as loud as that.

So, when he arrived, Carrol was thrown for a literal loop.

He had heard about the rumors of an underground society living beneath the church, but, like most people, he brushed it off. After all, it wouldn’t do to doubt the Church (he was aware of what happened to those who did).

He just… never expected it to be true?

He lost sight of the dog he followed, and found himself at the very edge of a huge disaster. He didn’t quite understand what in the world happened, seeing how a whole structure seemed to have collapsed in itself, but clearly people lived here. There were several people grumbling and cursing at their fate as they worked to clear any broken logs and scattered weapons.

A hand dropped to his shoulder caused Carrol to yelp in surprise. He swung an arm out to hit whoever grabbed him, but it was stopped. There was a grunt of pain and Carrol looked up. Narrowed, pale lilac eyes burned down at him, and the crown of slightly curled, colorless hair looked kind of fluffy to him. Almost like Beles’. He looked young, roughly the same age as Christophe, even dressed in a uniform similar to the Academy.

“Don’t…” the teen’s voice cracked as if he barely used it in years, “wood.”

A young woman stood right behind him with a veil covering the bottom half of her face. Carrol almost laughed out loud when he realized that her hair was as dark as night—the complete opposite from her companion. Oddly enough, she seemed totally out of place despite the uniform she wore. Her vibrant, ruby eyes seemed to smile as she spoke, “Honey dear, stand back.”

Carrol blinked and looked at the pointy shard of wood aimed at his face beside him. He immediately took a few steps back, “Whoa! That was a close call, huh? Ahahaha!”

The woman hummed in amusement, but the teen stared, “...you’re not from here.”

Carrol smiled, “Nope! Are you?”

“Yes.” The teen looked like he wanted to say more, but the young woman took over.

“Stop that,” she lightly admonished, poking the teen’s cheek before nodding in Carrol’s direction, “You are not hurt, are you? I’m sorry about him.”

Carrol marveled how the woman ignored the burning glare with a wall (or will?) of solid steel.

“—He’s not very nice to everyone. I’m Edelweiss.” The polite bow she gave was so genuine.

He grinned, “I’m Carrol! Have you seen—”

“HEY brats! Quit your yammering— Get over here and help us!” came a shout from somewhere in the mess. Edelweiss seemed to throw a smile at him (the veil covered her lips, but her eyes shined) and quickly disappeared behind some sort of devastated shelf. The teen definitely frowned after her, but sighed anyway.

“Ari,” he said as he gestured to himself, “Come.”

“H-hey, wait up!” Carrol found himself scrambling after Ari, “I wanted to ask—”

He didn’t get to finish as a stack of useless planks were practically shoved into his arms. Ari pointed at the steadily piling debris with a flat face that could possibly rival Beles’ own, “Less talking, more working.”

Carrol stood there for a moment, fully taking in the place he found himself in. It was an utter wreck, but he could see the crates full of fabrics, broken buckets of fresh vegetables, and dented weapons. It reminded him of the marketplace in the monastery. There were even kids helping out. For the first time in a long time, he felt a little lost. Or rather, he _was_ lost. 

Carrol suddenly didn’t know what to think about the Church.

He laughed in disbelief when he saw a glimpse of familiar green in the corner of his eye, “Oh my goddess.”

He took off, leaving a pile of planks in his wake.

._._._._._._.

His bell annoyed him.

Beles kept a hand around his bell to muffle the sound as he walked. It didn’t feel pleasant to hear the normally crisp rings echo so…. what was the word? Eerily? Creepily?

Whatever the word was, Beles was not comfortable with it at all.

Ahead of him, Aelfric had an easy pace for him to keep up with. This man had offered him a way out of here, and yet— 

Even though Beles diligently followed the man, there was something off about him.

How did this man know Jeralt?

Or rather, why would this man ask him about Byleth’s father?

Beles almost faltered as a thought came to mind.

Did Aelfric know about Byleth?

Quite frankly, Beles didn’t know what to think of it or if he should even be concerned, but the odd weight in his chest and the slight tremble in his steps told him otherwise.

He should be concerned.

They passed by a hall, and Beles stumbled a step. He didn’t realize how much of a wreck he caused with one tiny gust of wind (It wasn’t intentional— honest!). Luckily, no one had noticed them. Beles felt guilty for it, so he silently promised himself to make up for it in the near future.

Well, that was if he ever came back here.

“Alright,” Aelfric began as he pulled Beles closer to his side, “there won’t be much light from here on out, so stay close.”

“Heeeeyyy!” cried a familiar voice. Beles turned and saw someone he least expected.

Carrol had the biggest smile on his face that Beles almost pretended to not know him.

So, when Carrol practically bounded over and wrapped his arms around Beles, then proceeded to spin him around with echoing laughter— Beles swore that he didn’t know this kid.

“I found you! I’m so glad you’re okay!” he exclaimed, and Beles wanted to throw up. They were moving way too much.

“Everyone’s been searching for you? How’d you—“

And then they stopped so suddenly that Beles felt his world spin.

“Hi, I’m Carrol! Thanks for finding him for me— I think.”

Beles buried his face into Carrol’s dirt smeared shirt. He just wanted the world to just. Stop. _Spinning—_

Aelfric gave a small laugh, just like did Rhea when she found things amusing.

“You’re welcome, Carrol,” he answered, then added, “I’m Aelfric. Are you a friend of Beles’?”

For some odd reason, Carrol hugged him closer.

“Don’t worry, you don’t need to make that face. I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”

Carrol made a face that wasn’t smiling?

Beles hardly believed it as he tried to look up, but a hand pressed his head forced him in place.

“Ah? I’m not making a face—“ Carrol laughed, “say, do you know how to get out of here?”

“I do— how about I show you the way? I was about to do the same for Beles.”

“...Sure! That would be great. Thanks!”

Aelfric’s laughter seemed to echo in the halls, “What a delightful child you are.”

It was then that Carrol finally let him go. When he had room, Beles stared at him for an answer.

“Come along now,” Aelfric said as he gestured them to follow with a warm smile on his face, “I promise to keep you both safe.”

“Coming!” The second Aelfric turned his back, Carrol quickly raised his hands and mouthed his words along.

_“He knows your name.”_

Beles stared.

Of course, Aelfric knew his name. Everyone in the monastery knew—

Then he paused.

This wasn’t the monastery.

Carrol tugged him gently, “Let’s go.”

._._._._._._.

**-1171 Ethereal Moon-** ****

Beles was grounded.

Absolutely grounded.

His owl napped quietly on her perch by his bed, enjoying the relative peace in his room. Beles was a little jealous that his soft, fluffy owl was able to nap at this hour. He wouldn’t mind getting some shut eye himself.

He laid on the floor of his room, half under the bed. He picked at the wooden frame with the tip of his quill. He was just about finished with a line as a voice sighed for the umpteenth time.

“Okay—_ okay— _let me get this straight,” Sothis said somewhere from his room, “You followed a cat, discovered a whole-- whole underground town, accidentally destroyed a portion of their home, met a very suspicious man and then what again?”

Beles did nothing as he blew on a finished letter, brushing away the sawdust, and started another. After months of her napping, she just had to wake up this morning. He almost forgot how it felt to have her around to judge his every action, past and present.

Like right now.

“Beles, I demand you get out from under there this _instant!_” Sothis did not sound happy.

And honestly Beles did not care in the slightest.

“Beles!”

He abandoned his second letter, pushing himself into the open. Sothis had her arms crossed and floated above him with a very— what was the word? Oh right— upset look on her face. It was so close to Rhea’s expression sometimes.

Sometimes.

“What have you been _doing while I slept_?!”

Outwardly, Beles did nothing.

Inwardly, he probably panicked.

_“Exploring.”_

“Exploring, my foot!” Sothis raised an eyebrow, leaning toward him, “Now. Stop being stubborn and tell me what happened.”

Beles moved his hands. It felt a bit taxing from the floor.

_“Nothing serious. Aelfric took us to Rhea like he said he would. She sent me to my room after, and then I got a long lecture into the evening.”_

Beles stopped for a moment, trying to remember if there was anything important from that. Rhea had repeatedly told him that he was forbidden to go into any cracks in any wall for everyone’s safety (or was it sanity?). Seteth gave him the most disappointed look in his life. Hanneman was ordered to limit the honey gingered candies (lucky, Beles learned to hide an emergency stash in his desk).

Oh, and Alois cried— along with half the monastery staff.

He relayed that to Sothis and shrugged, _“I am ’grounded’ in my room until further notice. That is it.”_

“You should be more than grounded! I swear, you’re more trouble than you look,” Sothis huffed, crossing her legs in midair, “And get off the floor— your clothes are not meant for cleaning.”

There was a bite to her tone, and Beles figured that she was very angry with him.

(But in reality, she was more angry with herself. Although, he never figured that out until years later.)

Beles didn’t bother to get up, instead, he began to haul himself back under until a knock stopped him.

“Hey! Bel!” came a poorly whispered yell.

Beles really wanted to sigh.

But he didn’t.

He got up from the floor, ruefully abandoning his little project under his bed, as his window opened.

Actually, the window slammed open as Carrol practically barreled into the room with all the energy he had. Beles scrambled to catch his startled owl, who shrieked and lost her balance.

Sothis spat a colorful river of words for him.

Carrol beamed at Beles from the floor, “Haha! You got my note! Told ya I’d be visiting you.”

“Why— no— _Ugh_,” Sothis buried her face in her hands, “_How_ does this boy have so much energy.”

Beles wondered the same thing.

The said note was somewhere stashed out of view. It was slipped into the pages of a book he plucked from the library a few days ago (“got a plan to meet you so keep your window free!” it said). Honestly, he was not expecting Carrol to do it.

He should have barricaded his window.

Beles soothed his poor, terrified owl with a gentle hand through her feathers. He could feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest as she nipped at his hair for comfort, and he stared at Carrol.

He seriously considered throwing him back out the window.

“I—sorry. My bad.” Carrol scratched the back of his head with an apologetic laugh— if not nervous, “I’ll, ah, tone it down a bit— Didn’t mean to scare Snowy.”

He got up from the floor as if nothing happened, “Sorry, I took so long to finally meet you. It sucked not seeing you, you know? The plants are getting sad.”

Beles sat at his bed, snuggling his owl to his chest. It was almost fully grown by now, and it made Beles certain that she’d be just fine.

“But, anyway, I brought some pastries from the kitchens,” Carrol walked up to him, unknowingly passing through Sothis as he did, “I figured that you’d be dying from the lack of heavenly strawberry tarts and stuff by now. I can’t believe you’ve been grounded like this.”

He reached into his pocket to bring out a small bag of the said treats, “No sweet buns though. It seems like they’ve been banned from making them for now.”

Beles almost scowled.

“Well,” Sothis huffed from the back, “Rhea is definitely not happy with you.”

Ohhhh, he knew that alright.

Beles had a bit of difficulty detaching his owl from his sleeve (her claws gripped his arm a bit too hard— damn it, Carrol), but they both managed to place her back on her perch.

Carrol plopped himself on the bed, falling to his back and groaned heavily, “Haaaaaah, climbing the side of this building is insane! I can see why the pegasus knights don’t often patrol around here— you gotta be child’s size to be unseen.”

“You’re not exactly a Beles sized kid, either,” Sothis said rather bluntly.

Beles didn’t look at him (especially Sothis when he knew that she gave him the _look_) as he munched on a pastry. It wasn’t like he ever asked him to scale a the monastery for a visit. Besides, wasn’t Beles the one truly grounded here?

They weren’t exactly allowed to see each other outside of duties. Lady Rhea had been furious when she came to lecture him that day. He took the effort to look like he paid vivid attention, and received his punishment (or this “grounded” as everyone liked to call it). He certainly pretended to enjoy his time locked in his room for a whole damn month.

So, the pastries tasted very heavenly in his mouth. Hopefully, they never got caught.

Hopefully.

“Anyway! I wanted to ask you,” Carrol started, “what happened to you in that place? You know— that place you disappeared to? Lady Rhea told me to keep my mouth shut— in much nicer words, but I’m curious.”

Beles finished the pastry in his hand and repeated the same tale he told Sothis. He was aware of how both of them watched his hands with seriousness.

When he finished, Carrol sat up and stared at the floor in thought.

“Hmmm, I honestly think this Aelfric guy is kind of suspicious,” he said after a long moment. Sothis nodded in agreement. The usual smile on his face was replaced with an uneasy one, “despite leading us both back, he was... nice. Lady Rhea wasn’t very happy to see him, though. Remember?”

Beles remembered.

The second Aelfric took them to surface, they were accosted by guards and taken straight to Rhea. Beles could never forget the way her eyes held such a cold look that evening. He could practically feel the ice in her voice when she sent him to his room.

“Odd. Wouldn’t she be glad that this Aelfric person brought you home? I know I would,” Sothis muttered to herself.

Beles tried not to look at her. She had a point. That man had asked him weird questions.

Setting aside the uneasiness in his stomach, Beles handed a pastry to Carrol, who happily took it.

_“What happened to you?”_

Carrol immediately launched with his own tale, but it was more of him gleaming over the details besides the people he met. Beles and Sothis were only able to get a general gist of it.

“Gotta admit— that Ari guy was kinda weird.” Carrol tossed the last bite in his mouth and smiled, “His face is as flat as yours!”

Sothis snorted at that, but wisely kept to herself.

Beles thanked Carrol with a nod before a thought came to him.

_“Wait. It is almost evening,” _Beles stated when his hands were free, _“are you not supposed to be having lessons with Seteth?”_

“Ehhh,” Carrol shrugged, “I ditched ‘em.”

He said it as if it was the most casual thing to say.

Beles stared at him as if the other grew a second head.

Sothis rubbed her temples as she placed herself on the edge of the bed, “I don’t know who’s worse: you, Byleth, Yura, or this brat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beles never named that owl, you know. 
> 
> Also, thinking of making a separate story full of unordered one-shots of random times that couldn't fit in this story because of how absurd they are-- like the time Carrol learned never to take sweet buns without permission, or the day Byleth scared the living daylights out of Jeralt, or that time where Sothis screamed when Beles ran down the stairs, or that other time where Seteth had an office full of cats one rainy day-- You get the idea. 
> 
> Anyway, tell me what you thought! 
> 
> Who's ready for 1172? Not the Abyss.


	17. This Game of Silent Treatment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *crinkling of dried leaves*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took so long-- so have a somewhat long chapter

**-1172 Guardian Moon-**

._._._._._.

Beles was on an errand.

Well, a self-imposed errand to be exact.

The marketplace at the entrance of the monastery was a small, yet busy place. It wasn’t big enough for him to get lost, and guards were posted in strategic locations, so it was perfectly fine to wander without anyone (yes, Seteth and Alois made a crackdown on the security to make sure nothing chaotic happened again). Besides, he was just hunting for more seeds.

Beles held a scrap of paper to his chest as he came up to a stall. Thankfully, he didn’t have to try to catch their attention. Apparently, his bell and pale green hair became a bit of a beacon over the years. (Sometimes, he found himself wishing he had pink hair— like that one, tall student from the Goldie Horse— no, Goldfis— _Golden_ Deer. At least, then no one would automatically think of the Archbishop.)

“Well, if it isn’t, lil Beles!” the merchant— Sparrow, if he remembered correctly— greeted, leaning over the counter, “Although, I can’t really call you lil anymore.”

Beles almost scowled at the hand that measured right above his eyes.

Sparrow smiled at him, “Looks like you grew a couple of inches!”

He only stared back.

“Right, right— down to business.” They held an asking hand toward him and Beles handed over the scrap of paper. As odd as it seemed to others, it was a routine that the two had settled with. Beles had visited this particular stall for quite some time now (was it almost two years? Probably, but who was counting?), and he learned that things were easier if he just handed them a list.

Sparrow hummed as they flicked their gaze back and forth between the scrap of paper and behind the counter. They paused to look at Beles, “I just got a new stock of mint leaves, but if it’s the seeds you want, you’ll have to come back a little later. The shipment got delayed.”

Sparrow had a bitter tone near the end. Beles didn’t frown. Instead, he nodded in understanding.

“Alrighty! One jar of honey, a pouch of blue flower seeds, and a bundle of dried mint leaves coming right up!” The merchant ducked down, muttering to themselves about where they placed something. Beles waited patiently, keeping an attentive ear on his surroundings. The usual chatter of the marketplace was a tad overwhelming, and frankly, he’d rather not stick around for long. He closed his eyes when he heard Sparrow curse under their breath (“Where the hell did I put the box-- oh no, I didn’t even unpack it?? Shiiiiii—”).

Then a familiar voice filtered through the crowd, and it was one he heard once.

“—ore thing to buy. Edelweiss wouldn’t mind if we’re a tad late,” the voice said. Beles heard a faint grunt as a response and the voice continued, “Ari, _come on, _don’t think about the money right now_. _There’s bound to be something that can help your cough.”

Beles finally looked to see the speaker. It was definitely someone he had met before— the reddish, messy hair was pretty memorable from the trip to the Abyss (which, apparently, he was absolutely banned from entering). He hadn’t worn the odd uniform that looked eerily like the Academy’s. Instead, the teen was decked out in commoner’s clothing, completely blending in with his surroundings. If he remembered correctly, the teen’s name was Mel— or something.

Someone stood next to him, back turned toward Beles. They were about the same height as the other, but there was a hood over their head and their posture was stiff. Their voice was almost too low for Beles to catch, “It’s just a cough.”

Beles blinked.

“Just a cough, my _ass_. It’s been months!”

“This is pointless— we _don’t_ have much to spend on those herbs.”

“Then let’s ask Aelfric for help! He understands—”

“No. I can’t burden him with this.”

“Damn it, just let me take care of you!” Mel had a definite frown on his face, and a hand gripped tightly around the hilt of the sword strapped to his side. It was clear that the teen was reigning himself in. Beles had seen that look on Seteth’s face (like that one time he arranged the stack of paperwork alphabetically without telling the advisor— he almost got grounded).

“Here we are!” Sparrow called out to him. He turned to see a small parcel waiting for him on the counter. Beles thanked them with a nod, taking the parcel and leaving the required gold in exchange. “Thanks for your patronage!”

Beles didn’t linger as he mulled over the odd exchange in his head.

A cough that lasted for months? Well, Beles had experience in that area. He knew plenty of remedies that eased most of his own.

Maybe he could help.

He didn’t pause to think about it. If anything, he held his bell and walked right up to the pair impulsively. Mel didn’t notice him, too busy digging in his pocket for something. Quietly, Beles tugged on the stranger’s half cloak.

There was a startled cough as the stranger spun on his heel and looked down. Beles blinked when he took in their features. He had never seen anyone like this. His hair was such a startling white under the hood, and his wary eyes were oddly lavender. Yet, he looked so tired, exhausted even. He seemed too pale and strained for anything, but sleep.

Beles didn’t know if he should be impressed that this person was still moving.

“Oh! It’s you,” Mel greeted, his own copper eyes wide, but there was a smile on his face, “Never thought I’d meet you again! Especially since you’re _that_ silent Priest.”

Beles merely looked away, ignoring the way Mel spluttered at the blatant action, and stared up at the weird one. If he remembered correctly, this person’s name was Ari? Well, at least, that was what Mel called him.

Come to think of it, didn’t Carrol mention this guy before?

“May… may I help you?” Ari’s voice sounded scratchy, as if his throat was raw. And, wow, Carrol wasn’t wrong about the flat expression on his face.

Beles shook his head and tugged again on Ari’s cloak.

The two shared a look between each other before Mel shrugged, “Well, uh. Is there something you want from us?”

If he had more incentive to express himself, Beles probably would’ve huffed.

But he didn’t.

Instead, Beles turned on his heel, tugging Ari with a somewhat forceful pull. There was a short stumble behind him, and Mel snorted something that sounded like “Pfft— are you getting kidnapped?” Beles only glanced back to double check that they followed him. Ari looked like a mouse caught by a cat. Mel was probably five seconds from laughing.

No one dared to stop Beles. The guards kept a close eye on him, but they didn’t interfere. His steps were purposeful as he dragged the hooded teen out of the marketplace, past the fishing pond, and into the greenhouse.

He finally released Ari, but made a gesture to tell them to wait. The confused look on Ari’s face made Mel laugh.

“Ahaha— I think he’s telling us to wait,” Mel clarified, then looked at him, “Why in the world did you drag us here for? We had some things to pick up from the shops, you know.”

Beles didn’t know how to answer that. So, he strode off deeper into the greenhouse and swatted down at his own herbs. His collection had grown over the years with Carrol’s help: patches of sage clustered in the corner, chamomiles blossomed in soft white, angelicas branched from one side to another. He had bundles of dried leaves organized at the side. There were no labels attached, but Beles knew which ones were which.

Quietly, he unwrapped his parcel and took out the bag of dried mint leaves. As he worked on a tea blend for persistent coughs, he could hear the teens from where he left them.

“Wow, never thought we’d get accosted by _The _Archbishop’s son. It’s so weird though— did you hear that he’s the brat who blew out the supports?”

There was a drawn-out sigh, “A hundred times, Mel. We should lea—”

Beles nearly missed the scuffling sound when he dropped his jar of honey. He was lucky that it didn’t break on the soil.

“Whoa, do you need to sit?”

“No— look, can we just,” there was short coughing fit before Ari continued, “Go home? This is getting ridiculous.”

“You mean, getting dragged into a greenhouse by a brat wasn’t?”

Beles finished plucking the last bits of dried leaves into a drawstring bag. After double checking his mental list, he left his herbal corner. He wasn’t surprised to see the two teens waiting by the entrance.

Ari had an arm curled around Mel’s and their hands were clasped together as he leaned for support. When Beles approached, the white haired teen merely eyed him warily. There was something odd about the way Ari’s eyes regarded him, but he shrugged it off and handed over the bag of dried leaves.

It was Mel who took it, “What... what is this?”

Beles tapped his own throat and pointed to the bag. He put his fists together, as if to grind something, then acted as if he drank it afterward.

Mel’s eyes widened, “Oh my goddess— This is tea, isn’t it?”

He nodded and waved his hand a little. It wasn’t just tea. It was a type of medicine that Beles learned to make for himself. If it helped him, then, surely, it could work for the other.

Ari blinked, “For… my throat?”

He nodded again.

The two shared a look of utter disbelief before Mel suddenly broke into a bright grin. Beles barely had the time to react when the teen suddenly swooped in. His free arm wrapped around his waist and pulled Beles into an awkward group hug. Ari stumbled, tipping their balance and forcing them to their knees on the ground haphazardly. It was weird to be partially smushed between the two teens. Mel laughed and Beles was pulled closer, “Okay, I take it back— You’re not a brat— you’re an angel! No— A Seraph!”

“A Seraph? Really?” Ari deadpanned. When Beles looked up, he half expected to see irritation, but instead, he saw Ari with a smile tugging on his lips. It didn’t disappear when he addressed him, “Sorry.”

Beles shook his head. He didn’t particularly mind. It wasn’t often that someone hugged him, especially with his position.

Ari reached out, gently placing a hand on Beles’ head, “Thank you, Priest Beles.”

It was then, that Beles learned that even a tired, strained person could still smile so wonderfully.

._._._._._._.

To be quite honest, Byleth handled herself very well. Her days on the road had certainly toughened her up. Her senses were refined through hunting and the occasional battles she fought. Somewhere along the way, she ended up picking up a second blade. It wasn’t very long, not that much bigger than a dagger, but it was light enough to hold in one hand. When she held her regular sword in her right, and her newest in her left, Jeralt stared at her.

At the time, she remembered staring right back at him for the longest moment.

“Fix your grip on the handle,” Jeralt had said eventually. There was a weird, almost pained look on his face, and it wasn’t one that Byleth liked to see often. “You don’t want to drop it in battle like Stephen the first time around.”

Then that face suddenly made sense.

Byleth had never forgotten the late mercenary’s blood on her hands.

Nor did she forget the way his sister had broken down on her knees with the jar of ashes in her arms.

Sothis was skeptical with the new addition. She had given Byleth the “don’t be an idiot and _train with a wooden one first_ before using the real ones and accidentally cutting off your arm. I am not your mother!” lecture.

Honestly, Byleth never experienced having a mother. So she couldn’t contradict or agree with Sothis on that matter.

It took her a damn year to finally get it right. She hated how often she was knocked on her arse over and over. She almost sprained her wrist when she tried to retaliate once. It didn’t help that she only had memories of that battle to reference.

Stephen’s grace in battle was hard to replicate.

But Byleth got it.

Somewhat.

She put her skill to the test when they were swept into a roadside raid. Clearly, the two lone mercenaries present were fighting a losing battle against a large group of nearly seven bandits. When Jeralt and her joined the fray, the bandits stood no chance.

Byleth took out her enemies without remorse, and barely flinched at the blood that occasionally stained her gloves. In every battle, it always came down either her or them.

Whatever grace she had yet to master could always come later.

The look on Sothis’ face every time she cleaned her blade was one she learned to ignore. Byleth would be lying if she said that she wasn’t bothered by that quiet, almost guilty frown. She disliked the way it almost matched Jeralt’s face sometimes.

“By,” Sothis’ voice seeped in her thoughts, “Pay attention.”

Byleth neatly folded away the soiled rag and followed Sothis’ gaze.

The two mercenaries they technically aided were an odd pair. They stood before Jeralt with relief clear on their faces.

Byleth was not subtle in her staring, and neither was Sothis.

She had a good reason, too. It was hard to tell the difference between the two. It was like looking at a mirror that wasn’t a mirror— if that made any sense.

The slight rise in Jeralt’s eyebrows told her just how much he was surprised, too.

“What did you say your names were again?” he asked them.

The right one raised a hand, “Noelle.”

The left one placed a hand on a hip, “Noel.”

Sothis, who never strayed far from Byleth’s side, crossed her arms as she squinted at them, “Come again??”

Byleth had to agree - even their voices were almost the same. If it weren’t for the low intonation from Noel’s vowels, they’d be indistinguishable.

When Jeralt’s brows furrowed at the answer, they both replied at the same time, “Yeah, we get that all the time.”

“It comes with being twins,” said Noelle, waving her hand as if she had done a million times. She probably did.

Noel nodded along with his sister, “Don’t worry about mixing us up. We don’t mind.”

Byleth didn’t doubt that statement.

Oddly enough, it also had her thinking of Beles. Would she have to say the same thing if he stood next to her? She was aware of how closely they resembled each other. She could imagine that if Beles had the same teal hair and eyes as herself, they could pass as twins.

“Thanks for saving us, by the way,” Noelle said, “We would be goners for sure.”

“True. And I’m really glad you saved us and all but,” Noel glanced down the road with a clearly forced smile, “No offense, but our horses are gone.”

“Eh, they’re only horses.”

“They had the shipment.”

The bluntness of that statement hit the sister pretty hard.

“Oh shit.”

“Oh shit, indeed.”

Jeralt finally said something, “What’s wrong?”

Noelle looked panicked, “The seeds!!”

She turned on her heel and took off down the road, leaving her brother to properly explain.

Yet, when Byleth turned her attention to him, Noel looked ready to bolt after her, “Uhm— sorry but, uh, we’re also part-time merchants? The horses had the sack of seeds we were meant to deliver, uh, yesterday. Ahhh, shit, Sparrow’s gonna _kill us_.“

Byleth was surprised how high a grown man’s voice could squeak.

He didn’t elaborate as he practically scrambled after his twin with a colorful string of curses in his wake.

She had to congratulate Jeralt for not sighing after them.

“Well, that’s not something you see every day,” Sothis commented idly. She floated into Byleth’s line of sight and landed on the road, “Too bad they’ll be running a good mile to catch up to those horses.”

Byleth almost snorted. Almost.

Sothis looked back to her, “Shouldn’t you help them?”

Byleth echoed the question out loud, turning to Jeralt. Her father looked a little off put from the quick exit of the twins.

Jeralt had a slight frown on his face when he took note of the direction they headed. He shook his head, “No. They’re going the opposite direction of where we need to be.”

He started to head back to where they left their own horses (thankfully, the horses were far enough from battle to be startled. Jeralt didn’t want to accidentally run over his daughter with his war horse).

“Let’s go, By,” he called to her, “We have a job to do with the gang.”

Sothis and Byleth shared one last look together before they both hurried after him.

For a moment, Byleth wondered what it would be like if Beles was her sibling.

._._._._._.

Byleth looked at Beles right in the eye, “Are we twins?”

Beles stared right back at her.

No, they weren’t.

The look on his face probably gave away his thoughts as Sothis snorted from her chair, “Don’t worry about it, Bel. She just saw a weird pair of mercenaries.”

“They were twins,” Byleth elaborated. To Beles, it honestly sounded like she was tying to defend her sudden question.

But, Beles could see why she did ask.

He could remember seeing her for the first time and wondering if she was real or not. The way they seemed to share the same age, and the same blank, listless face— it made him wonder if they were really blood related or not. His own coloring was literally the other side of the spectrum from Byleth’s. He seemed to resemble Rhea in that regard—

…Who… also happened to resemble Sothis’ face sometimes.

Beles blinked at the thought.

He stared up at Sothis, then to Byleth, and back again.

“What’s on your mind, Bel?” Sothis asked him, slipping off her throne to sit on the floor with them. It was funny to note that the three of them could barely fit in that chair anymore.

He shook his head and moved his hands, _“We can pretend to be twins.”_

(It was odd how that didn’t sit well in his chest.)

It was Byleth’s turn to stare at him, “Really? Pretend?”

He shrugged.

(Maybe he could pretend that Byleth was his real twin, and then that odd unrest in his chest would ease.)

Sothis laughed, “Well! I don’t see why not.”

Beles paused for a second then suddenly got to his feet. He tapped Sothis’ shoulder, ignoring how she huffed at him, and scrambled over to Byleth. She only had an eyebrow raised (an expression she seemed to have picked up from Sothis) before allowing him to pull her to her feet. They were probably getting too old to play games anymore, but Beles didn’t exactly care.

Together, they turned around and stuck their tongue at their “guardian”.

“You’re it, Sothie!”

“You—“ Sothis spluttered over her words before she launched herself after them, “You brats!! That’s unfair! Foul play!”

Byleth had a slight smirk on her face as she took the lead, pulling Beles to keep up with her.

As his bare feet stomped down the steps, Beles felt a bubble in his chest and he took in a breath—

Beles jolted awake with a loud cough. A split second later, he greeted the floor with a muted thud. He hissed for a long moment, holding his nose as he waited for the pain to ease away.

It felt like he just tripped down the stairs, despite the fact that he had fallen out of bed.

That was embarrassing.

He laid there for a second longer when he realized what woke him up so crudely.

His room was dark, and his window was open — a clear sign that his owl had gone on her nightly hunting. The usual silence of the night was not as quiet as he expected.

Someone had pounded on a door— and it wasn’t his.

“Lady Rhea! Lady Rhea! Come quickly!”

That was definitely Alois voice— one he hadn’t heard for a while. Beles untangled himself from the blankets and rubbed at his aching joints as he limped to his door. Absently, he made a note to put some sort of pillow on the floor, in case he fell out of his bed again. Pressing an ear to the polished wood, he listened.

“Alois—“ Rhea’s voice had changed from a warning to a demand in two seconds flat, “what happened.”

“One of the students, Your Grace,” Alois’ voice was urgent, “The clerics can’t heal her. Cassandra might not make it to morning—“

Cassandra?

The name fluttered in the back of Beles’ mind. He recalled Christophe mentioning that name once or twice. Weren’t they friends?

There was an odd jump in his stomach. Was it worry?

“Take me to her.” It was rare to hear Rhea’s voice so hard.

Beles waited, staring at his bell on the night stand, until he heard them rushing down the stairs. He slipped out of his own room and nimbly followed them. He barely ever snuck out of his room at night anymore, since he knew that he would just get caught anyway.

Then he heard it as he stopped at the top of the stairs.

There were people scrambling back and forth. Even the guards that normally guarded the audience chamber were herding others out. Orders were being snapped and Alois herded a group of wide eyed, blood covered students to the first floor. Beles had only seen their pale faces, but he probably wouldn’t forget the plain horror on their face any time soon.

Then the hall was quiet.

Beles took it as his chance.

He quietly climbed down the steps and peeked around the corner. He spotted Seteth pacing near the entrance of the Infirmary. Sir Yonne stood near him, a tight fist on the hilt of her sword. Her face was pale and hard as she stepped into Seteth’s way.

“Come on, Seteth,” she said, grabbing the advisor’s upper arm, “You need a break.”

“Yonne—“ he weakly protested.

“No. Don’t argue. Besides, Lady Rhea ordered us to leave. She’s in there and she’ll help that student.”

Seteth clearly had something to say about that, but eventually gave in. He said nothing as he was pulled away from the hall. They were most likely headed to the library.

The second the coast was clear, Beles emerged from the corner and crept up to the Infirmary. He probably wasn’t supposed to be here— especially if Rhea had ordered everyone gone.

But—

Maybe he could help— he was training to be a healer on the battlefield (even though Rhea didn’t want him seeing one any time soon. Neither did Byleth for that matter).

With a nod to himself, he slowly clicked the door open. If he could just see if there was anything he could do, then he’d enter the room.

What he saw from the small crack in the door made him stop.

There was too much red; on the sheets, the floor—

Vaguely, Beles realized that it was Cassandra’s. The said student laid on one of the beds, and the bandages were soaked. He could hear her ragged breathing from where he was.

But what really stopped him was Rhea.

Rhea’s arm had a thin, bleeding cut. She allowed the blood to drip down— right into Cassandra’s mouth.

He didn’t know why he couldn’t move all of a sudden. Maybe it was the shock of seeing how the labored breaths eventually evened out.

Maybe it was Rhea cleaning up the blood with a white cloth.

“Go back to bed, Beles,” Rhea suddenly said.

Beles couldn’t help the startled gasp from his throat. The door creaked open just a bit, and Rhea’s pale eyes bore into his own.

He could’ve sworn that he saw someone else— no. No, this was Rhea.

Rhea repeated, “Go back to bed.”

Beles stood there for a long moment, watching as the healthy tan returned to Cassandra’s ashen skin. What… What was Rhea?

No… No, it—

“Beles.”

He looked at Rhea one last time. It was eerie to see traces of Sothis in her stern face.

Quietly, he stepped away from the door, and tore his gaze away from her. There wasn’t anyone in the hall, and nothing hindered him to his room.

He bonelessly sat on the floor, staring at his own arm.

That blood— that blood had cured her.

He knew it did— it _had_ to have been that.

He viciously shook his head and stood up. Beles felt something shaking.

It was when he grabbed the sharp quill on his desk and brought it up to his own arm that he realized that it was _him_ shaking.

No.

He was just scared— and he wasn’t sure if he was afraid of Rhea—

Or himself.

As the early sunlight filtered into his room, Beles was under his bed, carving another letter into the wooden frame.

He wasn’t shaking anymore.

But the cold that plagued him for years clung crudely to his bones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't you just hate it when you're having a nice dream and then you literally fall out of it? 
> 
> Anyway! We're getting closer to finishing up the set up to the chaos that starts in 1173. It's going to be a wild ride. 
> 
> Tell me what you thought this time!


	18. The Game of Heights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *crinkle crinkle crack of old paper*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate chapter summary: *WHAM thud*
> 
> This chapter's a nice trip.
> 
> Warning: slight abuse, mentions of blood

-1172 Pegasus Moon-

._._._._._.

Christophe’s hands were shaking. He didn’t know what to think anymore.

He had been there.

He couldn’t get there in time to stop the massive claws tearing her skin apart. He had seen Cassandra’s very life bleeding through his hands. No matter how many spells washed over her, those gaping wounds just wouldn’t _close._

He never bothered to count how many times he had scrubbed and scrubbed and _scrubbed_ his skin to get the blood _off_.

And now she was fine.

Absolutely fine.

Like nothing happened to her.

He didn’t dare to ask if she had the scars.

He should be glad for her.

He should be so relieved— so damn happy that she had _lived._

But he couldn’t.

Christophe stared at the chatty, fiery Cassandra from his window.

She was fine.

Her smile was still bright, even when she spotted him from below and waved.

“Hey, Christophe! How long are you gonna read?” she called out, as if a cursed monster didn’t try to rip her apart days ago.

“You’re training’s gonna lack if you keep sitting like a rock up there!” Cassandra teased, as if she wasn’t so still in his arms when he screamed for someone to save her.

Christophe pushed the memories back and snapped his book closed. He pretended to sigh and shouted back from his open window, “Like your own studies?”

She had the gall to look offended, as if she wasn’t the color of death when she arrived at the monastery that night, “Okay, now that’s mean, Chrissy!”

The silly nickname rolled from her tongue. Christophe had half the heart to roll his eyes.

But he didn’t.

He leaned over his window, “I jest— Give me a minute. I’ll meet you down there.”

Christophe dreaded the upcoming session, but he didn’t dread the laugh that rang proudly in the area. As he climbed down the steps to meet her, he violently shoved the horrid night to the furthest part of his mind.

He didn’t know what to really think anymore and his inflamed, red hands never stopped shaking.

._._._._._._.

Beles had seen Sothis’ name in an unmarked book.

He didn’t exactly think too much about it at first. It just seemed like a coincidence.

It was so much of a coincidence that it just happened to be the day that she wasn’t with him.

And he still didn’t think twice about it.

He had spent a good portion of his day in the library, looking into the records of the church itself. He had already learned and read about the founding of the monastery (probably a hundred times over the years). He knew it like the back of his hand at this point. The name Seiros was oddly familiar to him. It felt like he had heard it once, long before he began his lessons, but that didn’t seem right at all.

Those odd moments were things he brushed off many times before.

But now.

Well, Beles wasn’t sure if he should be brushing things off anymore.

That night he’d seen Rhea heal that student had been burned into his memory. Not once had anyone told him, nor did he get a hint that the Archbishop’s blood was able to miraculously heal someone from the brink of death.

There were definitely questions he wanted to ask Rhea, but nowadays, it seemed difficult to meet with her — even with their weekly tea times. It was harder still for Beles to bring anything up because Rhea barely stayed long enough to finish a cup of tea with him.

It almost seemed like she was avoiding him.

Rhea never avoided him.

Never.

Today, he had a surefire plan to get a chance to ask his questions.

Actually, no.

He didn’t have a surefire plan.

He just figured that if he could manage to catch Rhea off guard, then it should be fine.

Which was exactly why he didn’t bother to knock when he stuck his copied key into her chamber’s door and waltzed right in. He properly braced himself for absolutely anything, _but_ silence.

Beles almost groaned when he found the room Rhea-free.

Almost.

Instead, he looked up at nothing, took a deep breath, then sighed when he remembered something important. He had forgotten that Rhea had a long meeting with the Cardinals of the church, and he certainly wasn’t allowed to know where those were ever held. If he went up to Seteth about it, it would be a lost cause.

No one outside of the Archbishop knew who the Cardinals were, after all.

At least, not until he was old enough to take a much higher position in the church. Beles wasn’t anywhere close enough for that. Despite being the son of the Archbishop, he was just a lowly priest that ran the ceremonies at the Cathedral.

He dropped his shoulders as he shut the door behind himself.

Well, if Rhea wasn’t here, he might as well wait for her to return. Lunch, dinner, and whatever classes and duties he had could be damned.

He leafed through her personal bookshelf, finally reaching the fourth shelf from the ground. His growth spurt over the months finally gave him access to the thicker books. Clearly, they weren’t meant for studying, or for children, like the fairy tales on the bottom (just for him).

Rhea had never stopped him from taking a book off her shelf, and certainly she wouldn’t mind if he read a bit while he waited.

With his newfound height, he picked out a random, unmarked book. It seemed like it had been through thick and thin with the way the binding had been replaced in several areas. Despite its beaten appearance, it was definitely well cared for.

He settled himself at the foot of her bed and read.

Or rather, he tried to.

He stared at a weird formula instead. The labels scattered around it barely made any sense to him. It reminded him of all those drawings that Hanneman pinned on his wall. He had studied about Crests with him, but…

He flipped through a few pages, skimming over the several symbols he didn’t recognize until he reached an entry.

_1032_

_I have changed the structure from the last and it seems that Mother’s heart had accepted her. A full replication of a human body seems to be the best._

_And yet I have no idea where I have gone wrong. Mother never appeared._

_She still isn’t here._

_I failed._

_I have tried time and time again to bring Mother back, and each time has failed. Is Mother refusing to come back to me? Her child? Where have I gone wrong?_

_Unlike the others, this one is rather aware. She moves, speaks, and understands, but shows no emotion. It has only been a day. Maybe Mother will appear if I wait long enough. I cannot bring myself to kill her._

_Not yet._

_By the grace of the Goddess, Sothis—_

Beles paused, staring at that name for a second too long, before he finished the entry.

—_my dearest Mother, let this be a miracle I am waiting for._

It ended there.

Curious, Beles turned to the next page. A loose paper slipped to the floor. The edges were yellowed and clipped. It crinkled in his hand when he picked it up.

A beautiful drawing of a young woman stared up at him. Her hair was long, yet it looked soft. The way it framed her face reminded him of someone. Then her eyes, the blank expression on her face—

Beles felt his lip twitch as he huffed, just like Seteth did when something nice happened.

(Was it called amusement or something?)

This woman looked a lot like Byleth.

Beneath the woman was a single name written elegantly, “_Sitri_”.

He was tempted to read a little more. After all, it wasn’t everyday that he encountered a piece of literature like this.

Why would Sothis’ name show up here? She was a goddess? His Sothis never said she was, then again, she didn’t have memories before her time in that place. Rhea never mentioned the name of their goddess to him, so it was likely that it was the same…? Although, it would be interesting if Sothis really was a goddess. That would just mean that Byleth and him were closer to the goddess than anyone in the church.

It seemed like a very nice thing to him.

Speaking of Rhea, he could hear her voice down the hall. Delicately, he placed the drawing back into its place and got up. He was just about to return the book to its place when Rhea entered her room.

“Beles? What are—“

It was strange for her to suddenly cut herself off. Beles looked at her, pausing mid reach. Her pale green eyes were unusually wide, and a range of emotions flashed across her face that he couldn’t name.

Beles pulled his hand back, hugging the book to his chest as he tilted his head up to her. Lately, her actions had been strange and her blatant avoidance of him was so uncharacteristic of her.

Was there something wrong?

…Did he do something wrong?

He wouldn’t know unless someone told him. He raised a free hand, breaking whatever stupor Rhea was in.

_“Am I in trouble?”_

Rhea blinked at him.

Several times.

“What? Oh— no! No, you’re not in trouble,” she said after a moment. She entered her room rather quickly. Beles watched her eye the book in his arms with an emotion he couldn’t name.

Or rather, it was emotion Beles didn’t want to learn. He didn’t like the way it showed on her face, nor did he like the way it sent a dreadful, sinking feeling in his stomach.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Rhea’s voice said, but her eyes said something else. Beles almost took a step back, but he rooted himself in place. He had nothing to fear.

It was Rhea.

She wouldn’t hurt him.

She would never hurt him.

Beles repeated that to himself several times in a span of a few seconds. He would be lying if he said that he was glad that Sothis wasn’t with him today.

“Did… did you find that book interesting?” she asked, but it didn’t sound like she wanted to know. It sounded like she wanted him to let go of the book.

Right now.

This instant.

Beles only offered a shrug to show off his disinterest. He did find the book interesting— he wondered who the writer was, and the woman he saw looked oddly kind despite how flat her expression was.

He wanted to know more.

But, instead, he casually placed the book back on the shelf and saw Rhea’s face relax a bit at the edge of his sight. Maybe he should’ve picked a different book while he waited for her to return.

The smile on her face was forced, “I see. That book has nothing of importance anyway. Just musings of an old soul. Nothing interesting.”

Beles wanted to tell her how that sounded like a lie— of how it sounded like she tried to convince herself instead of him.

He wanted to ask her why there was a drawing of this “Sitri”.

But he never moved his hands for answers.

“Come,” Rhea gestured to him, “If there is a book you want to read, we can find plenty in the library.”

Beles almost flinched when her hand seized his wrist the second he was in range. While he was no stranger to being held there, her grip was oddly tight around his thin gloves—if not crushing.

“And while we’re at it, we can chat over a pot of tea,” Rhea said, tugging him out of her room. She wanted him out, but she never said it, “I’m sure you have… many questions for me, yes?”

Beles cringed as he stumbled a couple steps, his bell ringing violently at the movement. Her pace was too fast— her grip was too much— he could feel his hand slowly losing its circulation.

And Rhea did not let up.

It hurt.

It really hurt— like his wrist was about to snap in _half—_

For the first time in his life, Beles opened his mouth.

“Ngh.”

It was a tiny sound of air accompanied with a harsh hiss of pain, barely heard over their quick steps. Even he was surprised to feel something in his throat shift.

Then everything stopped.

He almost ran into Rhea, who froze in her steps. Beles glanced up at her and wished he hadn’t.

He didn’t like the way her eyes were too wide, and lips pressed too hard in a thin line. It was like she realized she did something wrong.

“I’m…sorry,” she said, but there was a tremor in her voice. Her grip felt looser and he knew that there was a bruise under the glove now.

“…For avoiding you,” she continued, “I’ll make it up to you right now. Seteth can take over— so let’s spend some time together?”

Again, that forced smile was back again, and Beles didn’t know what to think of it.

Instead, he nodded, straightened his posture, and took the lead. When she didn’t resist, he led her from the second floor to the dining hall. They picked up a freshly brewed pot of tea and a couple pastries.

When they settled in their usual place in the courtyard, Beles didn’t ask his questions.

His wrist ached painfully when he moved it, signing about ridiculous things Carrol did, but he never showed it. It was easy to put the pain to the back of his mind.

Besides, it was nothing like the burning nightmares he still suffered from.

He saw Rhea’s face ease into her usual smile, and she laughed at the right places. He didn’t like how he felt that he just avoided a disaster, or a storm.

But he knew.

He knew that they were just acting like nothing happened.

Beles did something he shouldn’t have, and that book— no, it was like a research journal of someone.

And Rhea was not happy to see it in his hands.

._._._._._._.

There was an ugly deep purple bruise around his right wrist. It stood out like a crude bracelet on his pale skin.

He had tried to heal himself once, but it never worked. He could heal everyone except himself. During the day, he could easily cover it, maybe smear a vulnerary on it to help the healing process.

At the moment, though, he wasn’t sure if he was lucky or not.

Sothis didn’t see it because he was keeping it out of her sight.

But Byleth did.

He could almost feel the seething anger from her.

Sothis chatted on about Byleth’s little adventure with a deer. Apparently, Byleth had accidentally scared off a group of them and one was mad enough to hook an antler under one of her belts and fling her around like she weighed nothing. It was funny how Sothis yawned (even in the middle of laughing— it sounded so strange to Beles) several times as she told the tale before she dozed into another nap.

For how long was anyone’s guess.

The second Byleth was sure that Sothis was asleep, she turned her teal eyes to him.

It startled him how similar she looked to “Sitri”. If she decided to grow out her hair, she’d be a splitting image of her.

“Who did this?”

The demand in her voice was strong.

Beles resisted the urge to look away from her and did nothing.

Apparently, that wasn’t the right thing to do.

She reached for him, and he only saw Rhea flash in his eyes.

For the first time in his life, he flinched away from her.

Byleth stared at him and her mouth dropped a tiny bit.

Even Beles couldn’t believe he just did that.

“Let me see it,” Byleth said after a long moment, her voice oddly soft. She held her hands open for him to see, and waited for him to move. For a second, he was reminded of Rhea— but he quickly replaced her with Byleth.

Byleth was easy to read, easier to understand.

Byleth would never intend to hurt him the same way as Rhea.

With that in mind, Beles stepped up to her, placing his own wrist directly into her hand. She was gentle, like she always was when she played with him. Her fingers ghosted over the dark bruise, and he barely felt the flare of fire that burned under her touch.

Byleth didn’t hurt him, even though her eyes looked ready to hurt someone for him.

It was oddly kind of her.

“I wish I could heal you,” she admitted, “but I can’t for some reason. Someone told me I’m too destructive for it.”

Beles wanted to reject that. If she wanted to learn how, then he would teach her.

“Maybe… if I dream hard enough, it will be healed,” Byleth said suddenly.

Beles moved his free hand and tilted his head, _“What if it doesn’t work outside?”_

“If it’s not healed outside of this place,” Byleth began as she held his hand, “then at the very least, you wouldn’t suffer here.”

They settled themselves at the foot of Sothis’ throne in silence. Byleth said nothing as she gently pulled him closer, resting her head on his shoulder while she seemed to wish for some sort of healing.

For him.

He waited, staring at his wrist to see if her theory would work.

It didn’t.

He could feel Byleth’s disappointment minutes later, and he knew that she really did try her best.

Behind them, he could still hear Sothis’ tiny snores as she napped away. Her day with Byleth must’ve been that exciting for her to be exhausted.

Beles thought back to the journal he read, and the drawing inside. Then he thought of Sothis.

With a tiny huff, he pried his wrist from her grip, ignoring the terrible, fiery ache as he moved, _“I think Sothis is a goddess.”_

“What?” Byleth stared at his hands, then at Sothis, then at him, then back at Sothis, who had a drop of drool at the corner of her mouth.

The two shared a look as Byleth deadpanned, “Right. A very sleepy, chatty, ‘how many times do I have to scold you like a mother’ goddess.”

There wasn’t a smile on their faces, but there was laughter in their actions: shoulders shook and hands covered each other’s mouth as they tried not to wake their <strike>guardian</strike> goddess.

Despite his hands covering Byleth’s lips, he could feel her lips curled up at the edges, and he was pretty sure he did the same thing.

._._._._._.

When Beles entered Rhea’s room days later, that unmarked book sat atop the bookshelf, far out of his reach.

And his wrist was still stained with an ugly, yellowing bracelet hidden underneath his glove.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Years later, Beles would be screaming internally for hours in his room at the blatant, obvious, undeniable PROOF of everything, but for now, he just put it to the back of his head because wow rhea, thanks for slight trauma.
> 
> Well-- tell me what you thought this time!


	19. This Game of Weight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *hack hack slashhhhhhh -- scratching of feather pen tips*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh.... do I need to up the rating to M? I keep forgetting about that.
> 
> Warnings: Blood, cursing, and stealing things (don't steal guys).
> 
> Also-- LOL I’m not strong enough to write out the f bomb.
> 
> Seriously, thank you so much to KINGBeerz for being my beta reader-- they help so much-- aaahhhhhH!!

**-1172 Lone Moon-**

._._._._._.

Yura was old enough to join her now.

Or at least, that was what Yura believed.

Jeralt thought otherwise, but the fierceness in Yura’s grey eyes made him listen to her.

“I’m fourteen— I’m old enough to make my own decisions,” she told him with a steel in her voice (probably Byleth’s fault, but whatever), “Let me join the group.”

When Jeralt had looked to Byleth, she shrugged. While she hadn’t knocked anyone flat on their asses yet, Yura was good at evading (courtesy of Byleth).

So, when the job went from easy dispatching bandits attacking to fighting for their lives.

To hell with their bandit mage!

Byleth ducked under the ball of fire that came her way, gritting her teeth at the searing heat that flew too close for comfort. She was glad that Sothis wasn’t with her today—

After all, her personal “goddess” always had a problem with her fighting, so it was a nice reprieve from her constant warnings and after battle lectures. Besides, it was Beles’ turn to suffer her lectures in whatever boring mess of a life he had— wherever he lived. (She never asked— after all, he was a quiet one that seemed sheltered. As long as he was safe and she could always meet him in that place, it was fine.)

Yura clambered up to Byleth’s side, sword lightly trembling in her grip, “I swear, he’s trying to burn us up for dinner or something.”

“It’s because we’re appealing,” Byleth deadpanned as she unsheathed her second blade. She really didn’t think about her words at this point. After all, she never chatted with anyone while fighting.

Yura’s face twisted in disgust, “Ugh! By, no.”

The damn bandit mage fired off another spell at them, and the two split off. Byleth never really fought with a partner, only on occasion, but it was interesting to fight with Yura. She only glanced at her, and somehow, someway— Yura nodded back.

Byleth moved in to take the battle closer. The bandit mage yanked a short sword from his side and swung it. She nearly lost an eye when she deflected the blade with her own. She quickly brought up her second blade to throw him off balance and gave a swift kick to the stomach to gain some distance.

The mage stumbled back, right to where Yura waited for him. Yura’s battle cry almost overpowered the startled scream as she drove her blade through their chest.

The mage, despite the sword running him through, gathered a bit of magic as a last resort. Byleth clicked her tongue as she shot forward.

Yura wouldn’t be able to get out of the blast radius in time.

It only took just a few precious seconds. Byleth covered her distance in the nick of time. She pivoted on her heel, lashing out with her swords. The mage fell to the ground with a gurgle.

Then silence.

There was only the girls panting to catch their breath and the distance sounds of the others fighting their battles. Byleth knew that this unexpected skirmish was basically finished from the way Jeralt and the others rounded up the stragglers. It was customary now, that Jeralt would leave Byleth to her own devices as she had proved herself more than enough times. Well, not without at least keeping an eye out for her.

She looked back to Yura, whose legs were shaking. The other girl didn’t look too bad after her first battle. Her chestnut hair was loose from her usual sloppy bun, and her clothes were scrubbed in some places. Tiny cuts from poorly dodged attacks nicked at her arms, and a tiny smear of dirt on her increasingly pale face. It was only then that Byleth noticed that the usual healthy tan from her skin was getting paler as her eyes grew wider.

Quietly, Yura pulled her iron sword from the body, almost gaging at the sight.

Byleth began to wonder— did her hands shake when she first killed? It felt like so long ago, that she almost couldn’t remember the feeling.

Was she ever, at one point, like Yura: a stumbling lamb taking its first baby steps, swinging a sword meant to take and never give?

Quietly, Byleth approached Yura, placing her own steady hand over Yura’s trembling one. Her grey, almost silver eyes were wet, and her mouth was set in a deep frown instead of her half grin.

Byleth stared into her eyes, vaguely remembering old words from a young life that never parted from her.

“Is it heavy?” she asked Yura.

(It was almost funny how clear Byleth could remember that day as if it was only hours ago.)

The other nodded, lips still trembling but never speaking.

Byleth gripped the hand tighter, “Don’t forget it. It’s a choice that we all decide to carry or not.”

“Oh…” It was barely audible in the rustling of leaves.

Yura’s eyes blinked once, and she eyed the bloodied sword in their hands. Slowly, her mouth was set in a shaky smirk and rushed to wipe away the shedding tears on her face, “Damn— It’s so f*ckin’ heavy.”

Byleth agreed.

._._._._._._.

“You are awfully distracted.”

Beles didn’t bother to glance at Sothis.

“Did something happen?”

He twirled a pen a couple times before he shrugged. Sothis didn’t like that answer. She sat herself on the library table and placed her hands on top of his literary analysis (damn it, Seteth, why). The look she gave made him want to get up and leave, because, no— he did not want to talk about anything.

Especially whatever happened recently.

He still tried to process things.

“Bel, you’ve been staring at the same page for half an hour.”

So?

“I’m going to sit on your paper until you tell me what’s wrong. You can forget about handing this in today.”

Beles stared at her.

No.

Freaking.

Way.

Seteth would probably kill him (well, no— but Seteth would give him the disappointed face that was usually reserved for Rhea).

While he did not want to tell Sothis anything, he’d rather not have to write a paper with his hands fazing through Sothis. Thank you very much.

With that in mind, Beles raised his hands and—

“Oh, I didn’t think someone would be here.”

Beles twisted his body around, only to find an Academy student carrying a couple of books under his arm.

His quiet corner of the library was covered by a bookshelf — but apparently it didn’t stop anyone from discovering this place.

Sothis groaned, “Just when I was about to finally get something—“

Beles squinted at the student. He had definitely seen the face before, albeit closer to death compared to now, and the white hair and lavender eyes were a dead giveaway. Although, he could’ve sworn that Ari was not an Academy student.

“Ah,” Ari blinked at him, glanced down at his uniform, then looked back up with a flat face, “Yeah. I stole it.”

“You stole it?!” Sothis blurted. Beles didn’t flinch. He was glad that he had gotten used to the sudden outbursts she occasionally had.

Instead, he shrugged and Ari nodded. Somehow, Beles understood that the other was up to something suspicious, but it was clearly nothing dangerous.

Physically.

After all, old students had graduated already— no one would question any new faces that came for the new year. Beles almost forgot that he wouldn’t be seeing Christophe and his friend anymore. It was too bad that he never watched the graduation ceremony. His duties as a priest were paramount.

Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t returned The Shepherd’s Tale to Christophe.

Well, it was his now.

“Do you mind if I join you, little Seraph?” Ari asked, drawing Beles’ attention again. There was a small rasp in his tone, but it was nice to hear how smooth and low it sounded when he wasn’t apparently dying.

“Little what?!” Sothis floated in his line of sight, “You know this man??”

Beles ignored her.

He gestured to the empty seat (the one that was meant for Sothis) across his desk and quickly went back to his paper. Sothis was out of the way, and she’d never do anything to make him look strange in front of others (usually).

Ari casually settled across from him, “Thank you.”

He didn’t realize that he stared until Ari cleared his throat.

“Uhm... Thank you,“ Ari cringed for a second, “I mean, for the herbs. It... it helped a lot.”

Beles only nodded, ignoring how Sothis huffed and settled on the edge of the table. Clearly, she wasn’t happy at the moment. Beles would deal with it later.

He went back to his paper, scribbling the last bits of his analysis with whatever bull he could pull. It wasn’t like Seteth would make him rewrite it.

Or, at least, that was what Beles hoped for.

Sothis glanced at the paper and sharply frowned, “Bel— no, start over. You are not writing ‘and this work says the same as everyone else, so it’s not that great.’ Use proper wording.”

Ohhhh, how Beles wanted to tell her he used “proper wording”. Under her leveling gaze, he reluctantly grabbed another empty sheet and started over yet again.

Across from him, Ari had already cracked open two books and had a worn out journal sitting on top of one. His eyes were awfully fast as he skimmed from one book to the other. It didn’t even look like he read for leisure. His lavender eyes definitely searched for something— maybe even urgently. Beles glanced at the rest of the books and took note of the spines.

All of them had something to do with Crests and history.

Beles shared a subtle gaze with Sothis, who leaned over to peek at the journal.

“Whoa— this is pretty extensive for a man posing to be a student,” Sothis breathed, hovering a little closer, “I mean, Hanneman, I understand, but this whole thing covered about crest activation? Or something? I don’t know— there are a lot diagrams and question marks.”

She peered at Ari, who sneezed into a worn-out handkerchief and muttered about it being oddly cold, “What is this man up to?”

Beles tried not to shrug. Instead, he openly stared at Ari, placing an elbow on the table and resting his chin on his hand. It was his silent way of expressing his curiosity (Although, Carrol said it looked “kinda degrading, no offense, Bel—”).

Ari paused in his frantic search and looked up at Beles, meeting his gaze. It took a few seconds before something seemed to click into place on his face.

“Ah.” He glanced at his own journal before settling his eyes on Beles’ face, “Curious, aren’t you?”

Beles nodded. He placed his arm down and gave his full attention. Sothis returned to his side, sitting at the edge of the table as she got herself comfortable.

Ari hummed as he sat back in his chair, “Huh, well… I don’t know where to begin.”

Beles pointedly looked at the books on the table.

There was a small hum as Ari answered the silent question, “It’s a personal project I’ve been working on. Probably big, but at the same time, probably not.”

He lightly tapped the open page in front of him, “There’s… a lot about the mysteries of the world, especially at the very bones of the foundations that created our countries.”

There was a frown on his face as he spoke, “Unfortunately, the more I look, and the more I understand, I’m afraid of uncovering truths that should never see the light of day.”

Sothis’ brow furrowed, but she said nothing. Beles tilted his head, hoping that the other would elaborate, but Ari shook his head.

“I believe that those secrets aren’t meant to be heard by little a Seraph like you, Priest Beles,” he said instead, “Well, not at this moment. If anything, I can only encourage that you search for those answers yourself when you get a little older.”

Beles didn’t frown.

He didn’t.

But he understood the point that Ari made.

He wanted to know more. He wanted to know what made Rhea’s blood heal. He wanted to know more about this Sitri. He wanted to know if his theory of Sothis was right—

Then Ari held up a finger and his eyes looked rather serious (or was that worry?), “But— be highly aware of your position. I… hope I’m not the first to say this, but please be careful. It’s dangerous if the son of the Archbishop gets his nose caught in places it doesn’t belong.”

“Adopted,” Sothis suddenly said, and for a moment, Beles forgot that Rhea wasn’t his mother. He squashed his urge to look at her as Ari continued on.

“I’m still looking for mine, and I might not ever finish it on time, but I pray that it will have some sort of hand in the future.” Ari sat up and reached across the table. With his height, he was able to lightly pat Beles’ hair without trouble.

Like an older brother to a younger.

Ari smiled as he spoke, “Maaaaybe, my research could help you in the future.”

Though Sothis spluttered at the action, Beles didn’t mind it. It was odd for someone other than Hanneman or Alois to ruffle his hair.

It was nice.

He certainly didn’t mourn the loss of Ari’s warm hand when the other pulled away.

“Now, I can tell that’s supposed to be finished today,” Ari said, openly staring at Beles’ work with a raised brow, “But, wow, are you sure you can turn in papers written like that?”

Immediately, the two looked at the mostly rewritten paper, and Sothis crossed her arms, “Bel! No! I told you once, and I’m telling you twice— proper wording!”

Beles didn’t scowl.

He really, really didn’t.

A few hours later, Ari left after helping Beles with his little literary analysis. It was amazing how the other nudged Beles into being less blunt and unimaginative with his words. Sothis had been very happy about that if her constant smiling and nods of approval were anything to go by.

It was only when Beles had dropped off his paper in Seteth’s office (the man was out and about with organizing the new students) and retreated to his room that Sothis hovered by the window ledge. The late afternoon light illuminated her figure like an ethereal being— which she was.

He paused in the middle of his room, staring right into her eyes.

“Alright. Your paper’s done, Ari’s gone, and we’re alone— now,” Sothis placed her hands on her hips and Beles knew it was coming, “Tell me everything.”

And, for the first time in a long while, Beles sat on the floor and she sat with him. He raised his hands and the story spilled from his hands, from that night to meeting Ari and Mel to the book on Rhea’s shelf.

He told her what he remembered.

But he didn’t tell her of his theory of her being a goddess.

Although, he had a quiet suspicion that she already knew that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't steal things like Ari. 
> 
> Well, tell me what you thought this time! 
> 
> Now--- who's ready for 1173? 
> 
> Absolutely no one.


End file.
